


A Wing And A Prayer

by velvetjinx



Series: Heaven Sent (To Love You) [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst, Baby Sam Winchester, Bit of deus ex machina, Canon-Typical Violence, Co-Parenting, First Time, M/M, Minor Dean Winchester/Other(s), Mutual Masturbation, Mutual Pining, Pining, Season/Series 04, Sub Dean Winchester, Top Castiel/Bottom Dean Winchester, divergent from end of season 4, magical handwaving
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-07
Updated: 2020-11-07
Packaged: 2021-03-09 05:40:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 18
Words: 25,745
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27439732
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/velvetjinx/pseuds/velvetjinx
Summary: When Dean manages to stop Sam from killing Lilith just in time, he sees that his brother has changed beyond what he had realized. Driven to find something to help, he drives to Bobby’s and finds a spell that might help. With Cass on board, he casts the spell. The results are... surprising to both of them, to say the least, and they find themselves in a situation that neither of them are really prepared for.What do you do when you have to co-parent with an angel of the Lord? And what happens when you catch feelings? Dean isn’t at all sure what’s happening. All he knows is that this is a situation neither of them saw coming.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Series: Heaven Sent (To Love You) [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2009278
Comments: 12
Kudos: 130





	1. Chapter 1 - War And The Fallout(boys)

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote the plan for the first 9 chapters of this 11 years ago, then proceeded to leave the fandom because I stopped watching. Three weeks ago I dug the plan out of my docs and finished it. Then I wrote the fic in less than a week. Then on Thursday night the fandom exploded and I was like, welp, good timing, self.
> 
> Thanks go to monoocularcat for convincing me to get back into it in the first place, KT for the encouragement, E_Greer for being the first to read it through with kind words, HellWrites and Evie for the beta and encouragement, and everyone who was like “YES” when I told them about it. You’re all amazing.

Dean stormed into the church, seeing that Sam was using his powers, killing Lilith. 

“Sam!” he screamed, and that moment of distraction was long enough for Dean to slap some sense into his kid brother. “Sam, no!”

“She has to die!” Sam yelled, and Dean grabbed hold of Sam’s arms. 

“Sam, this is the final seal. If you kill her, that’s it. Lucifer is out.”

Sam stared at Dean, mouth agape, when the demons they had both forgotten about made themselves known. Dean was flung across the church. As he picked himself up, he heard Ruby scream at Sam to do it, _just do it_. 

“No!” Dean cried out. “It’s a trick, Sammy! You gotta believe me!”

“Would I lie to you?” Ruby asked Sam, her tone low and sultry, before drawing him into a kiss. Dean’s eyes widened. He had to hand it to her, she was a good actress. He also had to hand it to Sam because Ruby was _smoking hot_ , but now wasn’t the time for that. Sam’s frown deepened as they kissed, then Ruby gasped as blood bubbled from her lips. Sam drew back, pulling the dagger out of her side. 

“Bye, Lilith,” Sam said, his tone hard, and he strode toward Dean, pulling him up. Lilith screamed obscenities behind them, but the brothers ignored her, instead closing the door to the church, muffling her yells. They looked at each other, so much unsaid between them, and Sam took a deep breath. “Should we just leave her in there?”

Dean shrugged. “I’m all for sending her back to hell.”

“You’ve done enough for now.” 

Dean looked up to see Cass walking toward them. 

“You took your time,” Dean said, idly picking some invisible lint from his jacket. 

Cass inclined his head. “It seems that things have… changed, in heaven.”

“You mean god hadn’t left the building after all? Wow, bet there’s some archangels in real trouble with daddy.”

Raising an eyebrow, Cass nodded. “Indeed. I can deal with Lilith. You two get back to the motel and regroup. There will no doubt be more to do.”

Dean gave a sharp nod to Sam, and they climbed into the car, driving back to the motel. The drive was silent, and Dean couldn’t help but run the scene through his mind, of his baby brother using his powers like that. He knew now—knew that Sam had gone too far down that path. Knew that he’d used his power too much. Knew that it was changing him. 

As they pulled up to the motel, Dean glanced at Sam. His eyes were pitch black. Then he blinked, and he was back to being Sam again. But it left a bad feeling in Dean’s gut. If Sam’s eyes were going black like that when he wasn’t even using his powers…

Once they were inside, Sam stood awkwardly as Dean sat at the table, drinking a well deserved beer. 

“Dean, I…”

“It’s okay, Sammy. It’s okay. I get it,” Dean said quickly, cutting his brother off. He didn’t want to hear it, whatever it was Sam wanted to say. 

Sam frowned. “Do you really get it?”

Dean nodded tightly, flashes of his time in hell passing in front of his eyes. “I do.” He sighed. “Go to bed, Sam. You need to sleep.”

“So do you,” Sam retorted, and dammit, Dean hated when he was right. 

“I’ll finish my beer then sleep. Go on, Sam.”

Sam nodded and went into the bathroom, and as the sound of the shower running reached his ears, Dean buried his face in his hands. What the hell was he supposed to do now? He’d failed. His one job was to keep his kid brother safe, and he’d royally fucked that up. He picked morosely at the loose plastic top of the table. Damn it all to hell and back.

By the time he finished his beer, Sam was asleep and snoring. Dean watched him for a moment, love for his brother burning in his heart, and his chest tightened. 

He knew he had to do something. 

As quietly as he could, he crept out of the motel room, climbing into the driver’s seat of his baby and heading up to Bobby’s house. One of Bobby’s books had to have the answer. They just had to. Sam could sit and stew in that motel room until he had found what he needed. 

Bobby wasn’t there—no doubt out on a hunt—and Dean let himself in, going straight to the library. He began pulling books off the shelves, one by one, flicking through for something—anything—that might help. The dust made him sneeze; he wiped his nose on his sleeve and kept going. For hours he searched, feeling more and more desperate, afraid that he would never find what he needed. 

As the sun was coming up over the horizon, he stumbled upon a book behind other books, hidden from view. A spell book. He thumbed through the pages, hoping against hope that he would find something…

He stopped. There it was. A spell to turn someone’s path from darkness to light. He read through it, frowning when it seemed to come to a sudden stop at the end of the page, but when he turned the page over there was a different spell there. 

He had everything he needed. 

He sent a quick text to Sam— _Don’t worry, had to go to Bobby’s to pick something up, will be back later—_ and began looking around for candles. As he pulled a box out from under a chair, Cass appeared in a flash of light, nearly giving Dean a heart attack. 

“Cass, jeez, you wanna warn a guy before you do that?” he groused. “What are you doing here anyway?”

“The host of heaven knows what you’re planning.” Dean opened his mouth to argue, but Cass held up his hand. Dean closed his mouth again. “They think it’s the best course of action, and have sent me to help.”

Dean raised an eyebrow. “Well, okay, then. Let’s get this set up.”

It was nearly nightfall by the time Dean and Cass had finished painting all the symbols on the floor and walls of Bobby’s barn. The candles were laid out where they needed to be. Dean lit them one by one, then opened the book and began to chant. 

The Latin words tripped easily off of his tongue as he read the spell, focusing on the intent behind it. Cass stood just out of his line of sight, watching, ready to ensure things didn’t go sideways. Dean kept his voice steady, even as the wind began to pick up outside and the candles flickered. 

He was just over halfway through when the barn doors burst open. There stood Sam, drawn up to his full height and eyes black as soot. The candles flickered again, as did the light above him. 

“Dean!” His voice was almost unrecognizable. “Stop this. You don’t know what you’re doing!”

Dean didn’t answer, continuing to chant the words of the spell. Sam began to walk toward him, raising his hand and gathering power, when Cass stepped forward, using his own power to hold Sam back. Sam roared, fighting against Cass’s powers, desperately trying to reach Dean. Despite Cass’s best efforts, he was still moving forward—only a little at a time, but he was moving. Dean could hear his voice getting louder, until he was almost shouting over the rushing noise of the wind and the crackling of Sam’s powers, contained for now. Cass was tiring; Dean could see him, just at the edges of his vision, struggling to hold Sam back. 

Sam was gaining more now, every step a little farther, a little closer to Dean. Cass fell to his knees, power waning, just as Dean shouted the last three words of the spell…

And Sam was gone, leaving only a bundle of clothes. 

Dean's eyes widened and he was about to run to the spot where his brother had been when a cry pierced the air. It sounded like…

“Is that a baby?”

Dean stepped towards the pile of clothes on the floor. There in the middle, staring up at him and completely naked, was a baby. Sam. Baby Sam. 

“What,” Dean asked hoarsely, “the fuck.”

The baby—Sam—stared at him for a moment before bursting into wails. 


	2. Chapter 2 - Baby Blues

Dean’s protective instincts kicked in and he picked up the baby, wrapping it in Sam’s t-shirt. He had to keep reminding himself that this baby _was_ Sam—was his baby (now literally) brother. It was strange. The last time Sam had been this small, Dean had still been a kid himself. Now, he seemed even smaller, so little in Dean’s adult arms. 

“Dean?” Cass’s voice nearly made Dean jump out of his skin; he had forgotten that the angel was even there. “Is that…?”

Cass sounded—for him—completely floored, and Dean couldn’t blame him. 

“Oh my god,” Dean whispered, bouncing the baby to try to get him to stop crying. “Oh my god, what did I do, what did _we_ do, why did I think using a random spell I found in one of Bobby’s books would be a good idea? Cass, what the hell are we gonna do now?”

He could feel panic rising in his chest and fought it. He knew that babies were good at sensing emotions and didn’t want to freak the baby out any more than he seemed to be. And who wouldn’t be if you’d been a guy in your twenties and suddenly you’d been turned into a baby and you were in a big scary barn at night and you didn’t know what was happening and…

“Dean.” Cass’s hand squeezed his shoulder, the touch grounding him. “Dean, you need to breathe.”

Dean let out the breath he’d been inadvertently holding and tried to breathe a little more normally. In, and out. In, and out. 

He turned to Cass, who was staring at Sam with an expression that on anyone but an actual angel he would say looked panicked. 

“Cass. What do we do?” he asked hoarsely. 

“I have to go and receive Revelation on this,” Cass said, his tone short, clipped. Before Dean could ask him what the hell he was supposed to do in the meantime, Cass had bamfed out, leaving Dean alone with Sam. 

“Okay, kid.” Dean took a deep breath, holding Sam close. “Okay. Let’s get you into the warm.”

***

He trudged into the house, closing the door gently behind him, and took Sam into the living room. He sat on the sofa, adjusting Sam in his arms so he was lying down. Sam looked up at him with those big, hazel eyes, before yawning wide and blinking sleepily. Dean rocked him gently, and before long Sam was fast asleep in his arms. 

He was so small, swamped in the fabric of Sam’s huge t-shirt—he couldn’t have been older than five months. Dean could remember him at this age, before their mom had been killed. 

Before the fire. 

Dean didn’t want to lay him on the sofa or any of the beds in case he rolled off, cushions or pillows notwithstanding. Instead, he gently arranged the cushions under his arms for support, and held his brother while he slept. He could feel himself start to doze too; he’d been up for god knew how long at this point, and he was bone tired. After everything, all he wanted to do was put his head down and sleep the sleep of the righteous. Still, there was no way he could sleep yet. Not until he knew that Sam was okay. That Dean hadn’t done permanent damage. Hopefully Cass would be able to tell him after he’d received his Revelation. 

As he held his sleeping brother, chin occasionally dropping as he nodded off before immediately waking again, he wondered how long Cass would be away. He hoped it wouldn’t be too long. 

He looked around the familiar room, trying to force his eyes to stay open. Everything in the room had a story attached to it. Dean knew most of them—like the cabinet that was made from a tree that came from a reputedly haunted forest, or the knife collection inside that Bobby had been given when he first started hunting. Even the sofa Dean was sitting on, which had been chosen by Karen. It was one of the few pieces of furniture belonging to her that was left. Not that Bobby ever talked about his wife. Some wounds just ran too deep. Dean understood. He’d never been one to talk about his feelings. He wondered, now, if he could have been better. What if he never got his Sam—grown up Sam—back? Would he have to raise him again? 

Dean swore to himself that if he did, he’d be better than last time. Better than their dad had ever been, that was for damn sure. 

He pursed his lips. He tried not to be bitter about his dad, but sometimes he just couldn’t help it. John had really fucked Dean up in ways that he should probably find a therapist for, if he’d been normal. But their family had never been normal. Not since he was a kid, and maybe even before that. 

He shifted Sam slightly so he could look at his phone to check the time. Cass had been gone nearly two hours, and Dean was gonna seriously fall asleep if he didn’t hurry up and…

Cass appeared in front of him and Dean nearly fell off the sofa. 

“Jeez, Cass, would you quit doing…” he whispered, trailing off when he saw Cass’s face. He had never seen the angel look so expressive, or so troubled. “Oh God, Cass, what’s wrong?”

Cass cleared his throat. “I have received Revelation. I have been told…” He cleared his throat again, glancing down at the floor before meeting Dean’s eyes again. “I have been told that I must stay with you both to protect Sam and assist you with looking after him. With… raising him.”

Dean blinked. “Are you telling me,” he whispered slowly, “that you and I—that we—are going to be co-parenting my brother?”

Cass nodded. 

“So there’s no chance that they can fix this? What we did?”

Cass frowned. “They seemed to think that the spell worked as it was meant to, and that we should continue on as—as you said—co-parents to the baby. To Sam.”

“No. Absolutely not, no. You don’t know the first thing about raising a kid! I’ve already raised Sammy, I know what I’m doing, but you have no idea!” Dean could feel the hysteria rising in his chest. “What are you gonna do? Bamf him about the place? Let him play with your wings until he falls asleep?”

“My wings are not…”

“Whatever. You don’t know the _first thing_ about babies! Sammy wasn’t much older than this the first time I had to raise him so I know I can do it. I don’t need your help. I can do this myself.”

“It doesn’t matter. I have been told by on high…”

“Fuck your orders!” Dean hissed, as Sam blinked his eyes open and began to wail. “Fuck. Aww, come on, Sammy, I didn’t mean it,” he said soothingly, bouncing Sam in his arms. 

“I believe that babies do need to be fed sometimes,” Cass said dryly, and Dean narrowed his eyes, shooting Cass the middle finger and resisting the urge to throw something heavy at him. 

“I’m aware of that, but it’s not like I have anything to feed him…”

He’d barely finished his sentence when Cass held out a bottle of perfect-temperature formula. Dean glared at him, taking the bottle and offering the teat to Sam, who immediately latched onto the bottle with his tiny hands and began to drink hungrily. 

“I can’t do that every time he needs fed,” Cass told him, and if he hadn’t been an angel Dean would have described his tone as snide. “You will have to buy supplies for him.”

“I’m aware,” Dean spat out. God he really, really hated his life sometimes. “We’re gonna need bottles, formula, a sterilizer, a car seat, clothes, a cot… I know all of that, Cass. I know how to look after a baby.”

“I was merely…” Cass began, looking a little hurt, as Dean heard the front door open and shut. Oh God. 

Bobby strode into the room, looking first surprised to see them there, then glancing curiously between Dean and Cass. “Where’s Sam? Did you get to him in time?”

Dean and Cass looked wordlessly at the baby, then back to Bobby. 

Bobby’s eyes widened. “Sonofabitch. What the hell did you two do?”


	3. Chapter 3 - The Joys of Parenting, Part 1: So You’re Co-parenting with an Angel of the Lord…

Dean opened his mouth to explain, but no words would come out. Bobby narrowed his eyes. 

“I’m waiting, Dean, and this had better be real good or I’m gonna throw you all out of this house for landing this at my door.”

Dean nodded, taking a deep breath. “I managed to stop Sam from killing Lilith, but he was using his powers. He’s used them too much, Bobby. I was… scared for him. Like he wasn’t Sammy any more. Like he was something else. I left him sleeping at a motel and drove up here, hoping to find something that would help.” Dean paused and took a deep breath. “And I did. I found a spell that would turn someone’s path from dark to light. Cass got the okay from upstairs, and we were in the middle of the spell when Sam burst in. Bobby, he was demonic. His eyes were black, and he was gearing up to use his powers on us. Cass held him back while I finished the spell, and he was too strong, he almost got us, but then… but then I finished it and he was… this.” He looked down at the baby in his arms, who had nearly finished the bottle. He glanced back up at Bobby, and swallowed. 

_Uh oh_. 

“So they approved of this _up there,_ did they? The same _up there_ that got us into the apocalyptic mess in the first place?” Bobby’s voice was low, but dangerous. “No I’m not gonna yell at you, if only because I don’t wanna scare the baby, but what in the _hell_ were you thinking? You used a random spell on your brother without knowing what it would do? You listened to an angel who, let’s face it, has been less than honest with us? You put yourselves in danger _yet again_ and I’m guessing you expect me to help, because you’re hardly gonna be able to raise that baby again on your own.”

“He will not be alone,” Cass interrupted him, and Dean wished the floor would swallow him up. “I will be helping.”

That startled a laugh from Bobby. “Oh! So the _angel_ who knows _jack shit about babies_ is gonna be _helping_? Well that’s rich. Dean, what the hell were you thinking?”

“I failed him, Bobby,” Dean said, his voice choked. “I failed him. I was supposed to protect him, and I couldn’t. He was my responsibility and I screwed up. I needed to save him. I had to save him, Bobby, don’t you get it? I couldn’t just let him go down that path.”

“I do get it, Dean, I do. But this? You couldn’t have waited until I got home?”

Dean shook his head. “I had to do it before he figured out what was happening. There wasn’t time to wait.”

“Well, you’re a damn fool is all I can say. And now you’re stuck looking after a baby when you can barely take care of yourself.” Dean opened his mouth to argue but the look on Bobby’s face squelched him. Bobby sighed. “I think we’ve still got some of Sam’s old baby clothes squirreled away from when you boys stayed here as kids. Let me go check.”

Bobby left the room, and Dean took a deep breath. The chewing out was all the worse because he knew damn well that he deserved it. But what was he supposed to do? Just let his brother turn completely evil? He frowned down at Sam, who had now finished the bottle, and sat him up to burp him while Cass watched, fascinated. 

“What are you doing?”

Dean shook his head. “Babies this little can’t burp by themselves, so you gotta give them a hand. You gotta hold ‘em like this, see? And rub their backs until…” Sam let out a loud burp. “Atta boy, Sammy,” Dean praised the baby, smiling. “Atta boy.”

“And they need to burp because?” 

Dean gave Cass a long look. “They gotta burp otherwise the air gets trapped in their stomachs and it causes them pain.”

“Oh.” Cass looked a little lost, and Dean relented. 

“It’s okay, Cass. You’ll learn as we go. God knows I had to, and I was just a kid.”

Cass nodded, looking a little happier, as Bobby came back into the room with a large bag. 

“Here you go,” he said, dropping the bag at Dean’s feet. “They might be a little big on him but they’ll do until you can get him more clothes. There’s washable diapers in there too. I also found his old car seat, if you want it. Don’t know how safe it is, but…”

“It’ll do for now,” Dean finished, taking the bag from Bobby. “Thanks.”

“I’m still pissed at you—both of you—for pulling this shit when you should know better,” Bobby told them, and Dean looked down, chastened. “Anyway. I’m going for a couple of hours of sleep. You should do the same before you go anywhere, Dean.”

“But Sam…”

“Sam can sleep in the bed with you, he’ll be fine,” Bobby said impatiently. “Get some clothes on him and go sleep. You look like shit.”

Dean nodded, and lay Sam down on the sofa. He kicked his little legs in the air while waving his hands, and Dean smiled softly as he dug into the bag for a diaper and some clothes. 

Once Sam was dressed—Cass watching like a hawk as though he was going to have to sit an exam on dressing babies or something—Dean took Sam upstairs and laid him on the bed, before stripping down to boxers and t-shirt and climbing in himself. 

***

He managed to get four hours before Sam woke him up, crying. Cass immediately walked into the room with another full bottle, and Dean sat up blearily, taking the bottle and picking up Sam, cradling him on his lap. As Sam fed, Dean blinked up at Cass. 

“How did you know he’d need fed?” Dean asked, his voice sleep hoarse. 

Cass shrugged, looking uncomfortable. “I asked Bobby.”

Dean nodded. “Okay.” 

It was nearly seven thirty a.m., and Dean stretched his back, trying not to disrupt Sam. 

“Will you go shopping today for supplies?” Cass asked, and Dean narrowed his eyes. 

“If you think it’s ‘me’ and not ‘we’ you got another thing coming. You’re helping? Then you’re coming with. End of.”

Cass looked a little mutinous, which was surprising to Dean who had never seen the angel show his feelings so much before. “Fine,” was all Cass said though, and Dean nodded. 

“Good. Okay.” He paused, frowning. “Now, you wanna leave me to get dressed? If you’re looking to make yourself useful you could get our bags from that motel.”

Cass nodded sharply, then bamfed out. Dean sighed. Of course nothing about this situation was going to be easy. 

***

Cass returned only moments later with the bags, and left them in Dean’s room before leaving again to go downstairs. Dean burped Sam and lay him carefully on the bed, before dressing in fresh—or at least, fresher—clothes. Taking Sam downstairs, he held Sam out to Cass. Cass stared at him as he cooed and giggled, kicking his little legs underneath him. 

“Are you gonna take him or what?” Dean asked impatiently, snapping Cass out of whatever thoughts he was having. 

“I don’t know how.”

Dean sighed. “Well, like this.” He demonstrated, showing Cass the correct way to hold his brother. “Make sure and support his head. It’s not as floppy as on a younger baby, but you still gotta keep him supported.” Cass gingerly took Sam from Dean, holding him in an approximation of the way Dean had shown him. 

Dean rolled his eyes and started moving Cass’s arms and hands around until he was holding Sam more comfortably. “There you go,” he murmured, as his eyes met Cass’s. His blue eyes were wide, beautiful, and Dean blinked. _Beautiful_? That was weird. 

He grabbed the car seat and motioned to Cass. “Come on,” he said gruffly. “Time to head to the store.” 

Cass followed him out, carefully holding on to Sam as Dean made toward the front seat of the car. 

“It goes in the front?” Cass asked slowly. 

“Yup,” Dean replied absently, struggling with the seat belt. 

“I don’t get to ride in the front?”

Dean stood and gave Cass a long look. “No.”

“Oh.” Cass looked both annoyed and disappointed, and Dean bit back a laugh. 

“I’m kidding, Cass. Sam goes in the back.” He fixed the car seat securely into the seat behind the front passenger side, then held out his arms. “Gimme Sam.” He strapped Sam into the car seat, and nodded to Cass. “Get in. We gotta go shopping.”


	4. Chapter 4 - Taking Your Pet Angel On A Shopping Spree: Dos and Don’ts

They arrived at the nearest Walmart and Dean took Sam out of his car seat. “Go get a shopping cart,” Dean told Cass as he unbuckled Sam, then turned to see Cass just standing there. “What?”

“A… shopping cart?” Cass’s expression was seriously uncomfortable, as though…

“Fine, it’s fine. We’ll get one on the way in. You’re gonna have to push it, by the way. I’ll carry Sam.”

“Okay,” Cass said quietly, and Dean softened a little realizing that, yeah, he was definitely out of his depth here. Probably more than Dean himself was. 

“Hey, don’t worry about it.” Dean put his hand on Cass’s arm. “You’re gonna learn a lot about what it means to be a human while hanging out with us.”

“I’m not ‘hanging out’, Dean,” Cass corrected him. “I’m here to help raise Sam and make sure he ends up on the right path.”

“Eh, po-tay-to, po-tah-to.” At Cass’s blank look, he laughed. “Never mind. Come on,” he added, hoisting Sam more comfortably onto his hip. “Let’s go buy shit.”

The store was still pretty quiet, so it didn’t take them too long to get round the store. What took the longest was Cass, who had clearly never been in a Walmart before, marveling at the varieties of stuff. 

When they got to the candy aisle, Cass couldn’t stop staring at the different colors. 

“We’re not here to buy candy,” Dean joked. 

“I wouldn’t eat it anyway,” Cass replied stiffly. 

“Aww, who am I kidding, of course I’m buying some candy.” He grabbed some Reese’s Pieces and some red twizzlers, and stuck them in the cart next to the formula, diapers, bottles, jars of baby food, wipes, diaper cream, baby monitors, a changing mat, a new car seat, and the large box with the bottle sterilizer in it. “Come on. We gotta get baby Sammy some clothes that actually fit him.”

As they neared the baby clothes, a group of women started making gooey faces at Sam. Dean smirked at them. 

“Ladies,” he said smoothly. 

“Your baby is so cute!” one of the women gushed, making a funny face at Sam, who immediately blew a spit bubble. 

“Uh, thanks!” Dean said, grin faltering slightly. He hoped he’d get a chance to let them know he was single, despite the baby. 

“How old is he?” another woman asked. 

“Five months,” Dean replied, feeling on stronger footing with that one.

“It’s so nice to see a couple like you taking your baby out to the store,” the first woman said, making an ‘aww so cute’ face, and it took Dean’s brain a minute to catch up with what she’d said. 

“What, what?”

But the women were already walking away, waving goodbye to Sammy, and Dean’s eyes widened. 

“What’s wrong?” Cass asked, standing next to him. 

“Apparently, those women thought we were together and Sammy is our son,” Dean managed through clenched teeth. 

“Oh.”

Dean looked up at Cass, who… couldn’t be _blushing_ , could he? 

“Ugh, we gotta figure out a backstory or I’ll never get laid again,” Dean complained, pushing the cart one-handed through the racks and picking up a bunch of stuff he thought Sammy would probably need. 

“I’m sure we’ll figure out how to change Sam back,” Cass said dryly. 

“The spell has to run its course, Cass. We can’t change him back until his path has been changed.”

Cass sighed and took over the cart again, while Dean picked out babygrows and little vests with dinosaurs on them.

They managed to find a flat-packed cot too, with a mattress, and they got some bedding as well for it. Cass pushed the cart to the checkout, and Dean turned on the charm for the woman serving them. She was completely oblivious, cooing about how cute Sam was and how nice it was to see people ‘out and proud’ in this part of the world, living as a family with their baby. 

Dean was too tired to argue. He just handed over a credit card with a name which was not his own, then followed Cass back out to the impala. 

As Dean tucked Sam back into his car seat, Cass unloaded everything into the trunk, but when they climbed into their own seats, Cass’s expression was stony. 

“You are aware that you can not do that again for the duration?”

Dean frowned as he started up his baby and checked the mirrors before driving off. “What do you mean?”

“The credit card fraud. It’s stealing, which is breaking one of the Ten Commandments. I can’t condone it, and I can’t let you do it while I am here. Besides, we want to make sure we’re setting the best example possible for Sam, so he does not go back down the path he was on. If we are trying to make sure he turns out good, a life of crime is not permitted. I cannot allow it.”

Dean snorted inelegantly. “The hell you can’t. What else am I supposed to do?”

“You need to find gainful employment.”

“Oh, fuck off,” Dean retorted, and Cass narrowed his eyes. 

“I mean it, Dean.” Cass’s voice was practically so low as to be a growl. It gave Dean a weird feeling in the pit of his stomach. “You are not permitted to use credit card fraud as a means of buying things for Sam while I am helping you raise him.”

“Whatever,” Dean said sulkily, rolling his eyes. 

Cass didn’t say anything else about it on the drive back, but Dean knew it was on both of their minds. 

As they drew up to Bobby’s, Cass spoke again. 

“I want to learn to drive.”

“Uh, okay?”

“I want to learn to drive the impala,” Cass clarified, and Dean stared at him. 

“You really think I’m letting you anywhere near the driver’s seat of my car? No. No way, Cass.”

“Both you and Sam learned to drive in this car,” Cass reasoned as they got out, and Dean went around to get Sam. “Why not me?”

Dean narrowed his eyes and looked at Cass, taking in the stubborn set of his chin, and his stance, as though he was ready to fight about it. Frankly, Dean was too tired to fight. 

“Fine. You can learn in her. But I tell you right now—you damage her in any way…”

“I’ll be able to fix it,” Cass interjected. 

Dean raised his gaze heavenward. “Fine. Fine! Come on, let’s get this shit into the house.”

Together they managed to get everything inside, as Sam dozed on Dean’s shoulder. Bobby was in the living room, polishing a shotgun. 

“Get everything you need?” he asked. 

“And then some,” Dean replied, dragging the mattress inside. 

“I hope you’re not thinking about setting that up here,” Bobby said, and Dean rolled his eyes. 

“No. We’ll be out of your hair soon enough.”

“Good,” Bobby told him. “God knows what’s gonna come after him now he’s so vulnerable, and no offense, Dean, but I don’t want more trouble at my door right now.”

Dean looked at Bobby, seeing the dark circles under his eyes, the lines around his mouth, and nodded. “And I wouldn’t want to bring any more,” he said quietly. “You’ve always been good to us, maybe more than we deserved sometimes, but this is something I have to figure out for myself.”

Bobby’s expression softened. “You know you can always call me for help if you need me.”

“Yeah,” Dean said, smiling. “I know.” He nodded towards one of the bags that Cass had brought in. “Can I plug in the sterilizer and get Sam some bottles ready?”

Bobby wrinkled his nose. “I think you’ve got a situation you’d better deal with first.”

The smell hit Dean, then, and he gagged, coughing. “Whoa, Sammy. Yeah, let’s get you changed. And maybe throw out that diaper. There’s no coming back from this one.”

***

Once Sam was changed and dressed in some of his new clothes, Bobby agreed to take him for a bit while Dean sterilized his bottles and got one ready for him. He squirted some of the milk onto the inside of his wrist to test it, and Cass looked at him curiously. He’d been watching Dean the whole time, as though learning what to do. 

“Why did you do that?” Cass asked. 

“Checking the temperature,” Dean replied. “You don’t wanna burn the baby’s mouth, you know?”

“So how should it feel?”

Dean took hold of Cass’s wrist and squirted some on. It was oddly intimate, and they were standing a little closer than usual. Dean cleared his throat and stepped back. “Like that.”

Cass nodded, his eyes dark. “Oh.”

Dean gave Cass a tight smile and went back through to the living room. He picked Sam up from Bobby’s lap and sat down on the sofa, getting Sam comfortable before feeding him. Sam’s eyes stared up at Dean as he fed, as trusting as they had been the first time around. Dean couldn’t remember the last time Sam had looked at him like that. 

He pushed those thoughts to the back of his mind, trying to just enjoy the moment, as Sam’s little fingers curled around one of his. He looked up and caught Cass’s eyes, and there was something in the stormy depths of those blue eyes that gave him that funny feeling again. He looked back down at Sam, unable to hold Cass’s gaze, although he didn’t know why. 

“I gotta do some research,” Bobby announced. “I’ll be in the library if you need me.”

“Okay,” Dean replied absently, and continued to watch Sam as he fed. Maybe this wouldn’t be too bad after all. 


	5. Chapter 5 - Teddies And Diapers And Milk, Oh My!

Dean awoke with his alarm, and turned over to check on Sam before getting up to feed him. 

Sam was gone. 

Panicked, Dean shot out of bed and ran down the stairs, only to be greeted with the sight of Cass, coat hanging over the back of the chair he sat in, with Sam in his arms. Cass was feeding Sam a bottle, and talking to him in a voice so low that Dean couldn’t make it out at all. 

Dean watched them for a few moments, that weird feeling in his stomach again. Except this time, it had spread to his chest. He couldn’t place it, so he ignored it, instead watching the tableau until Cass looked up. 

“What are you doing?” Dean asked, keeping his tone light so Cass knew it wasn’t an attack. 

Cass shrugged. It was the most human thing Dean had ever seen him do. “I figured since I was supposed to be down here helping that I should, well, help. I saw it was nearly feeding time, and Sam was already awake, so I thought I’d do it for you. I didn’t realize you’d set an alarm.”

Dean shook his head. “No, that’s… that’s great. Thank you.” Instead of going straight back up to bed, however, he sat on the chair opposite Cass, watching them. 

“While you were asleep, I received Revelation,” Cass said quietly. 

“Oh?” Dean said, still trying not to put any aggression into his tone. He hated those fucks upstairs, though. 

He must have succeeded, because Cass merely nodded. “I’m to stay with both of you for the duration, and only leave you if it is a dire emergency.”

“That’s fine,” Dean responded. “We’re leaving tomorrow anyway. We’ll get a motel room with two queens and we’ll set up the crib in there. It’ll be fine.”

“I was thinking,” Cass said hesitantly, “that maybe we could rent a house and you could get that steady job we talked about.”

“ _You_ talked about it,” Dean snapped, narrowing his eyes. “I vetoed it. I’d rather hustle pool and keep on with the credit cards than settle down somewhere.”

“Dean…” Cass began, but was interrupted by Bobby, who came down the stairs looking pissed off. 

“Can’t a guy get any sleep around here?” he grumbled. “Y’all are shitty house guests.”

“Sorry, Bobby,” Dean mumbled. 

“What were you two talking about when I came down, anyway? Looked serious.”

“Nothing,” Dean said quickly. “Just talking about leaving tomorrow, maybe getting a motel.”

“I suggested a house and a steady job for Dean,” Cass said, totally dropping Dean in it. Dean glared at him. “Dean wasn’t thrilled with the idea.”

“My friend Rufus is going away for a while,” Bobby mused. “He’d probably appreciate a hunter looking after his property while he’s gone. I’ll talk to him tomorrow, see what he thinks.”

“I’m not getting a job,” Dean said quickly. 

Bobby eyeballed him, making him feel about two feet tall. “You’ll do what you need to do to look after that baby, Dean Winchester. If that means getting a steady job or two, well, you just need to suck it up and do it.”

“But Bobby…”

“No buts, Dean. You gotta do what’s best for Sam. And right now, that’s a proper home and a steady income.”

“We’ve got the credit cards,” Dean muttered moodily. 

“And I’ve told you, you can’t use those,” Cass told him. “I will not have you breaking one of the Ten Commandments while I am with you. You were not raised from perdition to be a thief.”

Dean pouted. It seriously wasn’t fair. Bobby and Cass ignored him, as Bobby talked about Rufus’s place. Cass put the bottle down and sat Sam up on his knee, the way Dean had shown him, rubbing his back. 

Sam burped loudly, breaking the tension as Dean and Bobby laughed. Even Cass cracked a smile. 

Maybe it would all be okay. 

***

The following morning, as Dean was mopping up the yolk of his eggs with a slice of buttered toast, Bobby came into the kitchen. 

“Just spoke to Rufus,” he said without preamble. “He says you’re good to stay at his place while he’s gone. I didn’t tell him who you were, or who the baby is, and I definitely didn’t tell him who Castiel is. I don’t think he’d take any of that well. I just told him you’re hunters looking for a place to lay low for a while, and that you’ll take good care of his house while he’s gone.” Bobby narrowed his eyes at Dean. “And you _will_ take care of it, right?”

“Of course,” Dean replied, his mouth full of eggy toast. 

Bobby sighed. “You’d have thought your table manners would get better as you got older, not worse.” He looked around. “Where are Sam and the angel?”

“Library,” Dean said, and Bobby nodded. 

“Rufus lives about two hours from here. He said he’d expect you around midday, cause he wants to get going.”

Dean looked at his watch. It was already a little after nine.

“We’ll pack up and head out as soon as I’m done, then,” Dean said. “And Bobby?” Bobby tilted his head questioningly. “Thanks.”

Bobby’s mouth turned up in a pleased smile. “Yeah, well. If I don’t look out for you boys, who will?”

***

They left at a quarter to ten, Sam strapped into his brand new car seat in the back and dozing as they drove. They arrived at Rufus’s place just before midday; a big old house with a porch and a giant oak tree outside. 

Dean climbed out of the car, and Cass followed. Dean, a still-sleeping Sam in his arms, knocked on the door. 

A man with more gray in his beard than black answered, eyes narrowed. “Who are you?”

“I’m Dean, and this is Cass. Bobby called you about us housesitting?”

Rufus nodded slowly, opening the door to let them in. “There are clean sheets on the beds. Feel free to make yourselves at home, but not too at home,” he said, glaring at them. His eyes fell on Sam. “Cute kid.”

“Thanks,” Dean replied, feeling slightly out of his depth. 

“Don’t know what hunters are doing having a kid, but that’s none of my business. Anyway, I gotta leave now or I won’t get there in time. You good to settle yourselves in?”

Dean nodded, trying not to bristle at the implication, yet again, that he and Cass were a couple. “Yeah. Thanks again for letting us stay here.”

“So long as you don’t bring any trouble here, we’ll be good.”

“Understood.”

Rufus cracked a crooked grin, then grabbed the suitcase that was sitting in the hallway and left, calling, “I’ll be back in a couple of months!” behind him. The door closed, and Dean heaved a relieved sigh. 

“Well, here we are,” he said wryly. “Home sweet home.”

They got the cot built and set up in the room next to the one Dean claimed. “You should take the bedroom on the other side of the hall so if Sam cries he won’t wake you,” Dean told Cass. 

“Angels don’t sleep,” Cass replied. “Or eat, or drink.”

“Maybe you should try it some time,” Dean said with a grin. 

Cass’s response was to give Dean the kind of look he was getting used to from the angel; the one that said ‘I am putting up with you only because I have to’. Dean kinda loved it when Cass got irritated. Made him seem more human. 

With Sam fed and changed, Dean put him in his cot with a little bear he’d bought at Walmart. He wasn’t sure why he’d bought it; it wasn’t like they’d had those kinds of things growing up. But maybe that was the point. It was a fresh start. For both of them. Sam’s tiny fingers gripped the bear’s arm, as his breathing evened out into sleep, and Dean smiled down at his little brother. 

Looking at his watch, he realized it was only eight, but he was still bone tired. And since he had to be awake in five hours to feed Sam, better that he go to bed now. He knew he could trust Cass with the job—and since Cass didn’t sleep it was logical to do so—but Cass hadn’t experienced changing a diaper yet and Dean didn’t want to leave that to chance. Baby monitor set up next to his bed, he set his alarm for one a.m. and fell into a deep sleep. 


	6. Chapter 6 - Bringing Home The Bacon, Winchester Style

The following morning, Dean woke early. He yawned and stretched, before scratching his belly. It was six—Sam wouldn’t need fed for at least an hour, so he could go back to sleep, but he felt wide awake, a buzzing under his skin. 

He got out of bed and padded through to the bathroom for a shower. Standing under the hot spray, he refused to let his mind wander, instead focusing on what needed to be done that day. Cass was insistent that Dean find a job, so that’s what he was going to do. He didn’t want to, but Bobby was right. He just needed to suck it up and do what he needed to do for Sam. 

Once he was dressed, he went in to check on Sam. As he leaned over the crib, Sam blinked his eyes opened and yawned, before gurgling happily, waving arms and legs around under the blanket. Dean smiled softly down at him, reaching in and picking him up, holding him close. He wrinkled his nose. 

“Man, you stink. We gotta get you changed.”

Cass was downstairs, of course, reading a book from one of Rufus’s shelves. He started when Dean came in. 

“Whatcha reading?” Dean asked. 

“A story about a car which turns evil,” Cass admitted, blushing. 

“ _Christine_? It’s a classic,” Dean said with a grin. He took out the changing mat, along with a fresh diaper, wipes, and cream, and looked up at Cass. “Come on. You’re gonna learn how to change a baby’s diaper.”

Cass looked reluctant. “Can’t I just…”

Dean knew what he was going to say before he said it, and interrupted him. “No, you can’t just snap your fingers. If we’re gonna do this right then you’re gonna have to pitch in too, buddy.”

Cass sat next to Dean on the floor, as Dean began to strip off Sam’s sleep onesie, explaining what he was doing as he went. When he opened the diaper, the wall of smell hit them both, and Dean’s eyes practically began to water. 

Cass coughed. “I really think I…”

“Nope,” Dean managed as well as he could, given he was trying not to breathe through his nose. “You will watch and you will learn.”

He explained to Cass about how to clean Sam up, to make sure you used a little diaper cream once he was clean so he didn’t get a rash, and how to properly fasten the diaper so it wasn’t too tight or too loose. 

“Now, sometimes, because babies are actually assholes, he’ll wait until you’ve got the diaper off before peeing on you. If that happens, you can’t jump away. You gotta just let it happen and clean up after.”

Cass’s eyes widened. “Are you kidding?”

“Wish I was, buddy, but no.”

“Okay?” Cass looked completely out of his depth, and Dean’s expression softened. 

“You’ll be fine. You can do the next one, I’ll watch and make sure you’re doing it right.” He closed up Sam’s vest and put his onesie back on, then carried him through to the kitchen. Cass made up Sam’s bottle while Dean sat at the table, pulling funny faces and making Sam laugh. 

“Would you like breakfast?” Cass asked, almost hesitantly, as Dean settled down to feed Sam. 

Dean looked up in surprise. Cass looked… nervous?

“Sure,” he said quietly. “That would be great. Thanks, Cass.”

Cass nodded. “I think I saw some eggs and a couple of slices of bread that I can toast?”

“Thanks,” Dean said again, and Cass nodded, busying himself with making Dean’s breakfast. It was all very domestic—a little too domestic for Dean’s liking. It gave him that weird feeling in his chest again. 

***

By eleven, Sam had been fed again, and Cass had changed his diaper. He’d done well for a beginner, Dean had to give him that. He’d obviously been paying very close attention to what Dean had shown him earlier. 

It was strange, seeing the normally aloof angel change his baby brother’s diaper, struggling a little when Sam wriggled about. But soon Sam was dressed again, and Dean stretched his arms out, rolling his shoulders back. 

“I guess I’d better go out and look for a job in the town,” he said gruffly, still not overly happy at the thought. “I’ll pick up some groceries while I’m out. I’ve got some cash left from the last time I hustled pool,” he added quickly, seeing Cass was about to protest. “All above board. No credit cards.”

Cass nodded. “Okay.”

Dean looked at him, gaze piercing. “You gonna be okay alone here with Sam until I get back?”

Cass nodded again, this time more uncertain, and Dean sighed. He went upstairs and got Sam’s phone out of his bag, then went back down to where Cass was sitting on the sofa, Sam in his arms. 

“This is Sam’s phone. You need me, you call me. Okay?”

Cass smiled, relieved, and it lit up his whole face. Dean’s heart thudded a little harder. “Thank you, Dean.”

“No problem. I’m sure you’ll do fine,” Dean reassured him. “Well, wish me luck!”

“Good luck,” Cass said obligingly, and Dean grinned before kissing Sam on the forehead and leaving. 

The town was only a few minutes away from Rufus’s house, so Dean walked there, enjoying the bright sunny day. He had only been wandering for about ten minutes when he spotted a ‘Help Wanted’ sign in the window of a hunting store. 

Bingo. 

Dean wandered inside, a bell ringing as he opened the door. An older man with white hair came out from the back, nodding at Dean. 

“Morning, son. What can I do for you?”

“I saw that you have a sign in your window looking for someone,” Dean said, using his most charming-yet-bashful smile. 

The man seemed completely unmoved. “Position is for an assistant manager, four days a week. Got a resume?”

Ah. “No, sorry. But ask me anything about what you’ve got in stock here and I guarantee you I can answer it.”

The man’s eyes narrowed and he took down a shotgun. “You can tell me what this is, then?”

Dean nodded. “Mossberg 590A1. 12 gauge. Heat shield, which is a nice feature.”

The man looked reluctantly impressed, then took out a handgun. “And this?”

“Glock 17C. Nine millimeter. It has slots cut into the barrel and slide to compensate for recoil. Nice little piece.”

“Huh.” The man frowned thoughtfully. “No references?”

“I can get you a reference,” Dean replied, thinking of Bobby. 

“And your knowledge doesn’t come from you being a crook?”

Dean shook his head, laughing. “No, sir. It mostly comes from my father.”

The man nodded, then stuck out his hand. “David Jones, and before you comment, I’ve heard all the jokes.”

Dean grinned, shaking David’s hand. “Noted. Dean Smith.”

“Good to meet you, Dean. When can you start?”

“As soon as possible.”

David nodded. “Come in tomorrow. I’ll give you a trial run, see how you do.”

“Yes sir. Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me yet,” David said with a laugh. “Let’s see how you get on with customers first.”

They discussed pay for a while—at eight dollars an hour it wasn’t much, but it would do and Dean was so grateful for the job he didn’t even try to haggle. He thanked David again, then Dean left, thoughtful. Four days a week on what David was paying was barely enough to keep them going. He was gonna need to find something else to supplement his income. Still, it was a start, and he whistled cheerfully as he walked further down the road, passing a bar that looked like a bit of a dive. It was open, despite the early hour, and Dean raised an eyebrow before doubling back and heading inside. 


	7. Chapter 7 - Babydaddies Need Sugar Too

The bar was almost totally silent. There was a man sitting at the bar, staring morosely into a beer, but no one else was around. 

Dean sat on the other end of the bar from the loner guy, and cleared his throat. The sound was loud in the silence, and a few moments later a woman who Dean judged to be in her mid fifties came out of the back. 

“What can I get you?” she asked, tone not exactly unfriendly, but hardly encouraging. 

Dean smiled. “I was wondering if you needed any more staff.”

The woman frowned at him. “We could do with an extra bartender on the weekend. Thursday, Friday, and Saturday nights.”

“Sounds great.”

She nodded. “What’s your name?”

“Dean Smith,” he replied. “I’ve just moved here with my brother to house sit for a friend while he’s out of town. Just got a job at the local hunting store too, Monday to Thursday.”

“Hmm. Well, if David thinks you’re trustworthy…” She eyeballed him for a few moments, then nodded. “Come in Friday night and we’ll see how you get on. If I’m not here, tell whoever is on that Sue hired you for a trial. Pay ain’t great, I’ll warn you now. You’ll get seven dollars an hour, and what you make in tips, you keep.”

“Sounds good to me,” Dean said. He probably would have said the same if she’d asked him to sacrifice a goat every night; without being able to use credit cards, he really needed the money.

“Alright, then. We’ll see you Friday.”

“Thanks again,” Dean said, sincerely this time, and went back out into the sunny day, blinking a few times as his eyes adjusted after the dark of the bar. 

His stomach was growling, and he figured he’d pick up the groceries then get home for lunch. He had about three hundred in his wallet, which was definitely enough for what he would need. 

The grocery store wasn’t exactly big; it was a small town, and Dean figured that the store just suited the locals’ needs. Still, he managed to find everything that he needed, and took it to the checkout. 

The girl serving him was a looker, no doubt about that. Her name tag said ‘Mandy’, and she gave him a knowing smile as she began to scan his groceries. 

“Haven’t seen you in here before,” she said, her smile turning flirtatious. 

Dean immediately turned on the charm. It was almost a habit at this stage. “Yeah, just moved here with my, uh, brother. And his kid. We’re house sitting for a friend for a while. Got a job local too, so we’re probably looking for somewhere around here to settle.” That was a lie, of course. If they hadn’t got Sam back to normal by the time Rufus returned then Dean would be seriously worried. 

“That’s cool,” she said, handing Dean the jar of coffee and deliberately brushing her fingers against his. “How old is your brother’s kid?”

“He’s five months.” Dean suddenly realized that it wouldn’t do to give Sam’s real name, saying the first one that came to mind. “John’s a cute kid.”

“What happened to his mom? Sorry,” she said immediately. “I don’t mean to pry.”

“She, uh. She passed away,” Dean said truthfully. 

“Oh I’m so sorry.”

“Thanks.” Dean smiled gently. “So how long have you lived here?”

“All my life,” Mandy replied, laughing. “I went away for college but ended up back here anyway.”

“It seems like a nice town.”

She shrugged. “It’s okay, I guess. Pretty quiet. Nothing ever happens here, although if you like adventure there’s a forest about a mile down the road that’s supposed to be haunted.”

Dean nodded thoughtfully. “I’ll bear that in mind.”

He packed the last item into a bag, and she smiled up at him through her long eyelashes. “Your total is one fifty seven and thirty cents.”

Dean took out his wallet and handed her the cash, then put his change back in before sliding the wallet into his back pocket. “I’ll see you later, Mandy.”

She took his receipt and scribbled something on the back. “Just in case,” she said with a wink, handing it over, and Dean saw that it was her phone number. 

He grinned. “Why thank you.”

He left the store, bags in hand and feeling lighter than air. Things were definitely looking up. 

***

By the time he arrived back at the house, Sam was down for a nap and Cass was sitting on the sofa, looking exhausted. 

“How did it go?” Dean asked as he took the bags through to the kitchen. 

“Fine,” Cass replied. “He was fine. I fed him and changed him again.”

“See, Cass?” Dean said, smiling. “You’re a natural!”

Cass didn’t look so sure, but Dean clapped him on the shoulder before starting to put away the groceries. 

“Did you find a job?” 

“Found two,” Dean replied as he bent to put some beer at the bottom of the refrigerator. “Working at the hunting store Monday through Thursday, then at the bar Thursday through Saturday evenings.”

“So you’re going to be out of the house a lot?” Cass sounded nervous, and Dean stood, shaking his head. 

“Cass, you’ll do fine. You’ve done great already. Besides, you’re the one that told me I had to make an honest buck. So that’s what I’m doing. And I’ll always only be a phone call away if things go wrong. Okay?”

Cass nodded uneasily. “Okay.”

“Besides,” Dean said with a grin, “I might be out more than that.” He took the receipt from his pocket and showed Cass the number on the back. “A young lady in the local grocery store took a shine to me today. Figure I might call her.”

He stuffed the receipt back into his pocket as Cass glared at him. Dean was taken aback at the venomous look. 

“Dean, you can’t just go on dates when we have to look after Sam. Not until we figure out what’s happening.”

Dean frowned. “So what, I’m supposed to stay single because…”

“Yes,” Cass interrupted him. “You have to be responsible, Dean. You can’t just always leave me to look after him. You will _not_ be going on a date with that woman.”

Cass’s forceful tone made Dean’s knees go a little weak, and he grabbed hold of the back of a dining chair to steady himself. “Oh-kay,” he stammered. “I won’t call her. Jeez.”

“Good.” 

Sam’s cries through the baby monitor shattered the sudden silence, and Cass narrowed his eyes. 

“I’ll go get him,” Dean said quickly, going upstairs to fetch Sam from his cot. He immediately calmed when he saw Dean, sniffling and holding his arms up. Dean melted a little inside to see his little brother so helpless, so reliant on him again, and he picked him up, rubbing his back and resting the small, downy head against his shoulder. “It’s okay, Sammy. I’ve got you,” he murmured, taking him back downstairs. Cass had his bottle ready, and Dean sat on the sofa, letting himself relax as Sam fed. 

“By the way, if anyone asks, we’re brothers, surname Smith, and Sam is called John. Oh, and he’s yours. His mom died.”

Cass’s eyes widened. “I’m not sure I can…”

“What, lie? You did a bang up job lying to me, pal,” Dean said, a little harsher than he’d mean to be. “I’m sure you’ll do fine.”

Cass hung his head, looking so ashamed that all Dean wanted to do was reach out to him. 

“I’m sorry for that,” Cass said quietly. “I thought I was doing the right thing.”

“Yeah, well. You are now, and that’s what matters,” Dean said, relenting. 

“Thank you.” Cass’s voice was nearly a whisper. 

“So don’t you worry about me being out of the house a bunch, alright? You and Sammy are gonna be just fine. You managed this morning alright, didn’t you?” Cass nodded. “You’re gonna do great, Cass. Honest.”

“Thank you, Dean,” Cass said again, and Dean gave him a lopsided smile. 

“No problem.”

When Sam was fed and burped, Cass took him away to change him, and Dean sneakily reached into his pocket for the receipt. He turned it over, eyes wide. 

The phone number was gone. 

He knew that Cass must have wiped it. He also knew that he couldn’t call Cass on it because he’d said he wouldn’t call her. Still, it was a dirty trick by a sneaky angel. 

Dean was almost proud of him. 


	8. Chapter 8 - Teething Problems

Dean turned up for his first day of work at the hunting store, and met David’s grandson, Will, a surly twenty year old who had a spot on his nose that he kept picking. Whenever a customer came in, Will was mysteriously absent, only returning once the store was empty again. 

Dean dealt with the customers—not that there were too many—with patience that he wasn’t aware he had. There were a couple of old boys who wanted to stock up on shotgun shells for hunting, a cocky guy in his mid twenties looking for a rifle—Dean turned him away because he had no license—and a woman in her thirties who flirted a little but just wanted to know how much she would get for her grandfather’s war pistol. 

At the end of the day, David shook his hand. “You did well today, Dean,” he said, and Dean tried not to take the note of surprise personally. “I’d like to keep you on, if you’re willing.”

“Sounds good to me, sir,” Dean replied with a grin. 

“David, please.”

Dean practically bounced home with a spring in his step, and when he got in discovered that Cass had made him some dinner. Not anything fancy—fish fingers and fries—but Dean wolfed it down with a beer, hungry after the day’s work. 

He sat back when he’d finished, patting his stomach. “Thanks for that, Cass.”

Cass nodded, sitting Sam up so he could burp him. “It seemed only fair, given that you were out working.”

“Tell you what, I’ll cook Fridays to Sundays, since I don’t have to be at the bar until seven. Deal?”

“That would be… acceptable,” Cass said slowly. 

“Awesome.”

“I should take Sam up to bed,” Cass said, and stood. 

“Hey, bring him over here,” Dean responded. Cass, eyes widened in surprise, did so. 

Dean kissed the top of Sam’s head as he lay in Cass’s arms. “Goodnight, Sammy,” he said softly. 

Cass cleared his throat then swept up the stairs. Dean grabbed his bottle of beer, taking it through to the living room and relaxing on the sofa. 

***

“I told people that Cass is short for ‘Lucas’,” Dean told Cass the following morning at breakfast.

Cass gave Dean a quizzical look. “Why?”

“Because Castiel is an angel’s name, that’s why. I made up some bullshit story about us having a younger sister who couldn’t say ‘Lucas’ and just called you ‘Cass’ and it stuck.” Dean had totally ripped this off of Liam Nieson’s life story he’d seen on TV one night, but he wasn’t about to admit that. “So people can still call you Cass.”

“What people?” Cass’s eyes went wide in alarm. 

“Just… people. You can’t stay cooped up in here forever. You should take Sam for a walk some time. We could get a buggy.”

Cass frowned. “I will think about it.”

***

Life went on in a boring, humdrum way. He’d passed his trial at the bar too, and had settled into the routine. It wasn’t what he was used to, and he didn’t really enjoy it. He preferred the excitement of not knowing where he’d be from one day to the next—or at least, that’s what he told himself. He’d never really known any other life. 

He got to know the regulars, both in the hunting store and the bar. Both David and Sue were pleased with his work, and at the end of the first Saturday night Sue had slipped him an envelope with his weekend tips. It was enough to buy a cheap buggy for Sam, and on Sunday he dragged Cass out to the park, forcing him to say hello to the townspeople Dean had met so far. 

Dean knew that Cass was doing most of the childcare, but he still thought of himself as a single parent to Sam. He was Sam’s big brother; he was the one who had been responsible for him all these years. 

Besides, co-parenting with Cass made him uneasy. He told himself that it was because Cass was a dude, and Dean didn’t swing that way. Sure, he’d experimented as a teen—who hadn’t?—and he certainly hadn’t hated the experiences. He’d got off, and while it had been weird having a dick in his hand that wasn’t his own, if he were to admit it to himself it was kinda hot. 

But that had been then. This was now, and Dean very much liked women, thanks. He was still thinking about Mandy from the grocery store. She hadn’t been there last time he’d been in, and he was kinda glad. It might have been awkward. But still, he wondered what it would be like to kiss her, to fuck her. He wondered what she’d like. Maybe she’d want to be on top, which suited Dean fine. He liked it when women took their pleasure from him. 

But back to Cass—and why he was interrupting such pleasant thoughts with thoughts of his own personal angel was beyond him. And that was part of the problem. Cass wasn’t human. He was a bona fide angel—wings and all. To be co-parenting his little brother with an actual angel made him want to laugh out loud. His life had never been normal. Now it was downright weird. 

The thing he most didn’t understand about Cass was the whole ‘no sleeping/eating/drinking’ thing. It weirded Dean out. He wouldn’t even drink a beer with Dean. 

They’d been there about ten days when Dean finally snapped. 

“You have to eat something. Or sleep. Or something,” he pleaded. 

Cass merely looked at him, unperturbed except for a single raised eyebrow. “And why should I? My body does not require nourishment or rest.”

That was _so weird_. He was in a human body, did that not affect him? “So you’ve never eaten anything? Never drank anything?”

Cass shook his head. “I have never needed to.”

“Sometimes it’s not about needing to, pal. It’s about _wanting_ to.” He wrinkled his nose thoughtfully, then went to the refrigerator, taking out his last slice of chocolate fudge brownie cheesecake. “For example, you haven’t lived until you’ve tasted this.”

He took out a fork, and placed it next to the plate in front of Cass. 

“I don’t think I should do this,” Cass said slowly, and Dean rolled his eyes. 

“Come on, what’s the worst that could happen? Just try it. Maybe you won’t even like it. But you gotta try it. For me?” He fluttered his eyelashes jokingly at Cass, but weirdly it seemed to work. Sighing, Cass picked up the fork and took a small amount off of the cheesecake, then put it in his mouth. His expression went from trepidation to shocked to weirded out so fast that Dean could barely track it. 

He took another bite, a bigger one this time, as his expression melted into one of pure pleasure and he moaned. Dean began to feel a little warm, and tugged surreptitiously at his collar. 

“Good?”

“Dean, this is amazing, but…” He pushed the plate away from him. “I shouldn’t be doing this. I shouldn’t be eating this. It’s not part of my mission. It might even be against orders.”

“Why is that important?” Dean asked, laughing. “Screw orders. Just enjoy the ride.”

Cass’s expression turned sorrowful. “There were angels who did that, once. The Watchers who came to earth. They were the first angels tasked to protect humanity from outside threats, but eventually many of them fell in love with female humans. This led to the Nephilim—half human, half angel children—being born. These Watchers also spent their time teaching humanity on how to improve their society. But the heavenly host did not approve of this rule breaking. The Grigori—as these fallen Watchers are known—served under Lucifer during the battle. I cannot become like them.”

“Cass,” Dean said softly, suddenly understanding. “That’s not you. You would never fight under Lucifer. You do what you think is right and, yeah, sometimes you get it wrong, but I think—I believe—you always try and do the right thing. And I doubt that enjoying a couple of earthly pleasures when you’re having to try to fit in as a human is gonna get you kicked out.”

“I can’t risk it,” Cass whispered. 

Dean took a deep breath. “I’m not gonna force you to do anything you don’t wanna do, but give what I’ve said some thought, okay?” He clapped Cass on the shoulder and stood. “I’m going to bed. See you later.”

“Goodnight, Dean.”

Dean went up to get ready for bed, what Cass had told him spinning about in his brain. Punished for falling in love. No wonder Cass was so weird about some stuff.


	9. Chapter 9 – The Joys Of Parenting, Part 2: Honesty Is The Very Best Policy (Except When It Stops You From Getting Laid)

It had been two weeks since they’d arrived. Two weeks, and Dean was wondering when the last time he’d gone two weeks without sex was. Frankly, he was starting to think his wrist was going to give up altogether, he’d been jacking off so much. 

Cass was being totally unreasonable, he told himself as he walked to the grocery store after work to pick up some formula, baby food, and bread. What business was it of his what Dean did with his free time? He tamped down the guilty voice in his head that reminded him he’d be leaving Cass responsible for Sam, by himself, again. But then, he had _needs_. Cass couldn’t understand, being an angel and everything, but Dean liked sex. _Needed_ sex. 

It was a basic thing, like air or food. At least, it was to Dean Winchester, to whom two weeks was a dry spell. 

Basket in hand, he approached the checkout to see Mandy sitting behind the till. She looked at him a little frostily. 

“Hello,” she said, tone dismissive. 

“Hey.” He made his tone as apologetic as possible. “I’m sorry I didn’t call. I normally would have jumped at the chance, a woman like you.” He saw her soften slightly and forced down a triumphant grin. “I just… I've not long gone through a divorce myself, and with my brother and the baby, it’s been really tough. I wasn’t sure I was ready for dating.”

“And now?” she asked, obviously trying not to look as hopeful as she felt. 

“I’d like to take you out for dinner, if you’re willing to give me another chance. There’s a restaurant around the corner, the Italian place?”

“Giacomo’s?”

“Yeah. You free Tuesday night?”

She nodded, shooting him a pleased smile. “What time?”

“Meet you there at six? I might have to come straight from work but I’ll make sure I wear something decent.”

She laughed. “Yeah, okay. Tuesday at six. Don’t stand me up.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he told her, grinning, and paid for his groceries before stepping back out onto the street. 

Now there was just Cass to deal with. 

***

“So the guys at my work are going out for drinks after we close on Tuesday,” Dean said as he ate dinner that night. 

“Oh?”

“Yeah. I said no at first, but they kinda insisted. I shouldn’t be home too late. Do you mind?”

Cass frowned. “No, I don’t mind, but will this happen often?”

“Nah,” Dean replied easily. “They know I can’t always be going out, but since this is the first time since I started they wanted to get to know me outside of work, I guess. I just didn’t want to turn them down and look like a loner weirdo, maybe draw some unwanted attention to our situation.”

“It’s fine, Dean.” Cass gave him a piercing look, and Dean made himself smile back. He didn’t like lying to Cass like this, which was weird, because to Dean Winchester lying came as easy as breathing. It had never bothered him before, but it bothered him now. 

He told himself he was still feeling a little guilty. Yeah, that was probably it. 

***

By the time Tuesday rolled around, Dean was a bag of nerves. Which was weird. Dean never had nerves before first dates. 

And it wasn’t like he was particularly invested in Mandy. Yeah, she was hot, but if it didn’t work out he wasn’t going to break his heart. 

After work, he changed his shirt in the bathroom, stuffing the other in his messenger bag, and headed to the restaurant. It had been easy to book a table; he figured there wasn’t going to be much business on a Tuesday night in a small town. 

Mandy was waiting for him, looking stunning in a pretty floral dress, with lipstick the same shade of pink as the flowers. He kissed her on the cheek, taking in the smell of her spicy perfume, then led her gallantly from the bar to their table. He pulled out her chair for her, making her giggle, and sat down, smiling at her. 

The date went about as well as first dates can go. There was some awkwardness at first as they cast around for topics of conversation, but once the wine and beer were flowing they smoothed the way. 

He told her about John (Sam), named after their now deceased father, and about how tough it was on Cass to learn how to be a caretaker for his child all on his own, instead of working. 

“What did he do before John was born?” she asked. 

“Security,” Dean replied smoothly. “He worked for a security company.”

“Such a shame, that John will never know his mom,” Mandy said quietly, and Dean swallowed around a lump in his throat. It was true. Sam had never known their mom. 

“It is,” he said after a moment. “But Cass—he’s so great with him. I was surprised, if I’m honest,” he added. “He’s never been one for babies. But the way he is with… with John. It’s really something.” Dean kept his expression bland while cursing himself for almost calling Sam by his real name. That would have been, as Bobby would say, a damn fool thing to do. 

Mandy smiled gently and squeezed his hand, as Dean cleared his throat. 

“So tell me about your family?”

As she talked about the family who lived in town, Dean nodded along, only half listening. He wondered what Cass and Sam were doing. It was after Sam’s bedtime; he should be asleep. Cass was probably lonely. 

Another wave of guilt passed through him and he mentally shook himself, just as Mandy finished talking about how her parents hadn’t wanted her to go to college and now she understood why. 

“It was a waste of time and money,” she said, shrugging. “Here I am, back here, doing a minimum wage job. I had dreams—I guess everyone does—but…” She trailed off, shrugging with a self-deprecating laugh. 

“Never say never, Mandy,” Dean told her. “Maybe one day you’ll find somewhere that uses your talents.”

She smiled at him, pleased. 

_Bingo_. 

After dinner—for which he paid—he walked her home, a block down from his house. 

“Goodnight,” she said softly, clearly waiting for him to kiss her, so he did. But something felt off. He knew that she was waiting for a sign to invite him in, but it just didn’t feel right at all. He knew that if he did have sex with her he’d regret it, not because it was a small town or whatever, but because there was a wrongness about it that he couldn’t define. 

Instead, he broke the kiss and smiled gently at her. “I’d better get home.”

“Okay,” she said, looking a little disappointed. 

“I’ll talk to you tomorrow?” he added, and she smiled. 

“Yeah.”

He walked home, in the front door, to where Cass was standing, arms folded over his chest. 

Dammit. 

Ignoring the look of disappointment and betrayal on Cass’s face, Dean nodded hello and went straight upstairs to check on Sam. He didn’t know how Cass knew where he’d been; all he knew was that Cass _did_ know. 

***

He saw Mandy on his way to work the next day and stopped her. “Hey,” he said quietly, and her face fell. 

“Uh oh,” she said, her tone hard. “Here it comes.”

“No. I mean yeah, but it’s not what you think. You’re great, Mandy. I mean, _really_ great, and any guy would be lucky to date you. I just, I don’t think I’m as ready as I thought I was, you know? With Cass and John and the divorce and everything, it’s just not the right time.”

She nodded along, like she got it, but Dean knew she didn’t really understand. Truth was, he didn’t understand himself. 

“We okay?” he asked, and she put on a brave smile. 

“Yeah. Yeah, Dean, we’re okay.”

***

As soon as he got home that night, he could tell that Cass had been stewing since the night before and was spoiling for a fight. He waited until Sam was in bed, then as soon as Dean came back downstairs…

“You shouldn’t be lying to me, Dean,” Cass said, his tone furious. “And don’t deny it. I know you were out with that girl last night.”

“Maybe I wouldn’t have to lie to you if you weren’t trying to smother me!” Dean managed not to yell, but it was a close run thing. “I don’t like you spying on me, and I don’t like you telling me what I can and can’t do.”

“I wouldn’t have to if you would take some responsibility,” Cass spat out, and Dean recoiled as though Cass had slapped him. Dean wanted to lash out, to say something about Cass not having a shred of humanity to understand him, but something stopped him. For some reason, he didn’t want to hurt Cass, even though he knew exactly how to push his buttons. Whatever the reason, Dean didn’t want to examine it too closely right then. 

“Whatever,” he growled. “I’m going to bed.”

He stormed upstairs, even though it was only eight, and got into bed. Too wound up to sleep, he tried to make himself relax, but it didn’t work. Only one thing for it…

He licked his palm, then stuck his hand into his boxers, squeezing his cock and feeling it harden in his hand. He took it slow, dragging his hand down his shaft to his balls, then back up to tease the head. 

He thought about Mandy as he worked his cock—how she looked, how she smelled. How it would feel to fuck her. Eat her out and finger her until she was dripping wet then slide right in, let her squeeze around him…

His breathing sped up, as did his hand, as he pictured her riding him, her pert little tits bouncing as she rubbed off on him, taking her pleasure. He could feel himself getting closer and closer to the edge, but as he spilled, her laughing brown eyes turned to solemn blue. 


	10. Chapter 10 – Life Lessons

Friday afternoon came, and Dean was enjoying having some time before work that night. As he was feeding Sam some apple goop—as much seeming to go down the sides of Sam’s face as in his mouth—Cass came in and sat down opposite them. 

“You said you’d teach me to drive,” Cass began, and Dean glanced at him before turning his attention back to Sam. 

“I figured something as simple as driving you, an angel, would be able to do automatically,” Dean quipped, but quelled under Cass’s subsequent glare. “Yeah, okay, okay. But I can’t teach you right now. We’d have to find someone to look after Sammy, because there’s no way you’re driving for the first time with him in the back.”

Cass frowned. “That’s… that’s fair,” he said after a moment. “I understand that.”

Dean finished up feeding Sam the last spoonful and stood, slinging Sam over his hip. “Doesn’t mean I can’t take you out to her just now and show you the basics. Come on.”

They went outside to the impala, and Dean motioned for Cass to sit in the driver’s seat. 

“Okay, so the first thing you need to know is what the pedals do,” Dean said, while trying to discourage Sam from pulling his hair with fingers still sticky from applesauce. 

He pointed to each part of the car, telling Cass what it was called and what it did, and Cass nodded along, occasionally asking questions but with a look of such focus on his face that Dean almost laughed. It was kind of adorable, the way he was so serious about everything. 

When he was done, and Cass had asked pretty much every question under the sun, they went back inside. 

“Okay. So what does the accelerator do?” Dean asked as soon as they were back in the living room. “And which pedal is it?”

Cass answered correctly straight away, and Dean couldn’t help but be impressed. Nothing wrong with Cass’s memory, anyway. 

“What do you call the lever on your right and what does that do?”

“The handbrake, which despite what you might think is not to turn corners in a rush but to ensure that the car stays stopped,” Cass replied immediately, giving Dean a look. 

Dean blushed. “Yeah, yeah. Okay.”

He went through everything he had taught Cass outside, and every time Cass answered correctly. 

“You’re good, I’ll give you that,” Dean said lazily when he had run out of questions. “Why do you need to learn to drive, anyway? When you can just… poof.”

Cass shrugged. “It’s only logical. I can’t transport all three of us everywhere, and if you were injured in some way and needed to get to a hospital, while Sam is still a baby, I would have to drive you there.”

Dean flushed red, suddenly ashamed, and nodded. “God. You’re right. Of course you’re right. I get it now. And I’m sorry.”

“Why do you have to try and make everything so difficult?” Cass asked with a sigh. 

That made Dean laugh, a little helplessly. “Damned if I know, pal. I wish I did, but I guess it’s just my nature.”

“Maybe you should learn to trust more,” Cass responded, but Dean shook his head. 

“No way. I can’t. I can’t afford to trust anyone but Sam. Not trusting people is why we’re still alive. Trusting is what got Sam into this mess in the first place. He trusted Ruby. Look where that got him.”

“Surely it’s different now, though, Dean,” Cass said slowly. “It’s not as if I haven’t—especially recently—proven that I’m on your side.”

“Is that what you call it?” Dean asked with a snort. “You know that’s not true. You’ve shown us that you’re on the side of good, on the side of heaven, but that’s not always my side. And it sure ain’t always Sam’s side.”

“Maybe that was true with our most recent encounter,” Cass replied quietly. “But I was ordered to…” He sighed. “But how many times have I helped you and Sam in ways I wasn’t supposed to?”

Dean paused, suddenly remembering all the times Cass had stood up for them in his own way, and suddenly felt like a heel. Staring at Cass, he realized that he’d been kind of an ass to the angel over the last few weeks, especially that stunt he pulled with Mandy. 

He flopped further down onto the sofa, snuggling Sam in closer and sighing. “I’m sorry, Cass. You’re right. I just… this has been a really difficult time for me, you know? First with Sam going off the rails, and then right when I’ve got him back he’s turned into a baby? I miss my brother, Cass. I know this baby is Sam, but he ain’t my Sammy. Suddenly playing dad to him as a grown up is weird, and it’s taken a lot of adjustment.”

“How do you think I feel?” Cass asked, giving a short, bitter laugh. “I’m completely out of my element. I’m staying home all day every day to look after a small human child, something with which I have no experience, when I’m used to being a warrior. Not to mention that I have to live with an adult human who I’m not sure even likes me.” His voice dropped on the last few words, and Dean’s chest tightened. 

_Shit_. Cass had saved his and Sam’s asses on more than one occasion. Plus there was no way that Dean could have got through this whole thing without Cass’s help. 

“I’m sorry, Cass,” Dean said, startling himself with how raw it felt. “I’m so sorry. I do like you, you’re a great guy. Or, well, angel. I guess if we’re gonna do this then we have to communicate better.”

“I’m sorry too, Dean,” Cass replied, much to Dean’s amazement. “I have been smothering you. I suppose I didn’t realize how much. I guess I’m just afraid I’m going to mess this up and Sam won’t be set on a better path.”

Dean frowned. “That won’t happen.” He stood. “I’m gonna grab a couple of beers. You take Sammy.” Cass stood too, and Dean got in close to pass Sam to him. They’d passed San between them before, but Dean was suddenly aware of how intimate it was. How he could feel Cass’s breath on his cheek, how aware Dean was of the slight height difference between them. How much they had to touch in that moment. 

As soon as Sam was in his arms, Cass looked up at Dean, right in his eyes, right into his _soul_ , and Dean took a panicked step back. “I, uh,” he said intelligently, then practically ran into the kitchen to fetch the beers. 

He grabbed two from the fridge and took them back in with him. Cass and Sam had disappeared, but he could hear a noise upstairs as Cass put Sam down for a nap. 

A few seconds later, Cass reappeared, baby monitor in hand, and Dean passed one of the beers over to him. 

Cass held up his hands. “I told you, I shouldn’t. And I told you why.”

“Yeah, well, I’ve been thinking about that,” Dean said slowly. “Maybe you need to learn something about being human, to help you look after a human child. Besides, we need to start relating to each other about something if this is gonna work. And I figured… this might help.”

Cass thought for a moment, then nodded, taking a sip of the beer. He held it in his mouth for a few seconds before swallowing, eyes wide. 

“What was that?”

“Oh, the fizz? It’s fun, right? Those are little bubbles bursting on your tongue that make it feel like that.”

Cass took another sip. “It’s fascinating! And the taste is so strange.”

Dean shrugged. “I guess. I don’t notice it anymore, unless it tastes bad. I just find it refreshing.”

“Refreshing, yes! That’s it exactly!” Cass enthused, taking another sip, and then another. 

By the time Cass had finished his first beer, he had taken off his jacket and loosened his tie, and was more relaxed than Dean had ever seen him. He figured Cass was a little tipsy, and wondered briefly if angels got hangovers. 

But it was nice. Dean had missed this kind of camaraderie without Sam. And Cass wasn’t Sam, not by a long shot, but Dean wasn’t wishing that he was. 

Not any more. 


	11. Chapter 11 – Bedtime Stories

Dean was at work in the bar the next couple of nights, and though they were spending the whole day together, Dean felt more at ease with Cass than he had the whole time Sam had been a baby. Now that they’d cleared the air between them, Dean felt like he could breathe again. 

On Sunday, Dean’s day off, they seemed to run like clockwork. Moving around each other to get breakfast and Sam’s bottle ready, Cass fed Sam while Dean ate and then Dean took Sam to change him while Cass washed up. They sat in peaceful, comfortable silence for the rest of the morning—Cass reading his Stephen King while Dean dove into some of Rufus’s more arcane spell books, Sam cuddled on one arm. 

The rest of the day was much the same, and when Sam was settled for the night, Dean fetched a couple of beers from the refrigerator, going back to the living room and handing one to Cass. Cass surprised him by taking it eagerly, drinking a sip before Dean had even sat down. 

Dean suppressed a smile. It was nice to see Cass relaxing. He didn’t do that very often, and it made Dean happy to see. 

“So you’re a warrior, right?” Dean asked, after they’d both had a few sips of beer. 

Cass nodded. “Fighting for the side of heaven is all I’ve ever known,” he said, and Dean wondered if he could detect a hint of sadness in Cass’s voice. 

“That’s pretty amazing,” Dean responded softly. 

Cass gave him a surprised look. “Do you really think so?”

“Well, yeah.” Dean took a sip of his beer. “You battle evil. So do we. You just do it on a… bigger scale, I guess.”

“Maybe we’re more alike than I gave us credit for,” Cass said, smiling. 

Dean had that weird feeling in his chest again. “Yeah, I guess we are.” He paused. “So in all that time you’ve really never eaten anything? Really never had a beer before?”

Cass shook his head. “Although, to be fair,” he said quietly, “no human has ever offered. Until you.”

“Yeah, well.” Dean tried not to squirm. “I’ve almost always been alone in protecting Sammy. You’re the first person, aside from Bobby, to help. So. Thanks.”

Cass nodded, not asking about John. He seemed to sense that talking about Dean’s father was off limits. 

After a moment, Dean spoke again. “You’re not what I expected.”

“No?”

Dean shook his head. “I would have thought you’d be a hoity-toity holier-than-thou asshole. But you’re not. I couldn’t have done this without you. Looking after Sam? Holding down two jobs while we wait to see if the spell worked? I just… It wouldn’t have worked without you helping. So, you know. Thanks.”

Dean felt his face heat, and saw that Cass’s face was also pink. 

“You’re welcome,” Cass said, voice a little hoarse. 

They sat in silence, drinking, then Dean cleared his throat. “I wanted to ask—and tell me if I’m outta line here, but—your vessel. Jimmy.”

Cass stiffened. “What about him?”

Dean held up his hands. “You don’t have to answer if you don’t wanna talk about it. I just… I wondered. Is he still in there? Can you hear each other’s thoughts, or is the body now you, and Jimmy just a thought at the back of your mind?”

“No,” Cass said, and shook his head. “Jimmy’s situation is… unusual. Normally the vessel’s spirit would be in the body for as long as we cohabited. But when I went up to heaven, after the Battle, Jimmy was rewarded for his valor of spirit by being set free and allowed into heaven. This body is now wholly mine. Wholly me.”

Dean was surprised by the level of relief he felt at that. He was glad that Jimmy had received a reward, of course. But he was also glad—too glad—that the body was completely Cass. That there was no one else in there. He couldn’t explain the feeling—didn’t want to explain it. Instead, he nodded and smiled, before turning the conversation to Sam. 

“I just wish I could have saved him before he got in so deep,” Dean said. 

Cass shook his head. “You couldn’t have. The entire host of heaven was determined to have an apocalypse, as well as every demon in hell.”

“I know, I just…”

“You did your best, Dean,” Cass said softly. “No one could ask more than that.”

Dean nodded, picking morosely at the label on his beer. 

“Besides,” Cass added after a few moments, “if things hadn’t turned out this way, I never would have tasted beer.”

That startled a laugh from Dean. “Yeah, okay,” he conceded. “I guess it’s worth it, then.”

“Exactly!”

They began to speculate on what might be happening in the demon underworld now their plans had been foiled, one topic leading to another, and before Dean knew it, they were each on their fourth beer. Cass’s eyes were bright, and he was leaning forward, tie and jacket over the back of the chair, and shirt sleeves rolled up. He was also telling Dean an unexpectedly hilarious biblical story about one of the prophets freaking out when confronted with an angel for the first time. 

As he spoke, Cass leaned forward further, resting a hand on Dean’s knee. Dean almost inhaled his beer at the sudden contact, but somehow managed to hold it together. Cass, luckily, didn’t notice that there was anything wrong, which Dean chalked up to two reasons: the three beers, and the fact that he was in the middle of a story he was clearly enjoying telling. 

Dean had never seen Cass so animated. His cheeks were flushed a deep pink, and he was gesticulating wildly with his beer bottle in the hand that was _not_ on Dean’s knee, burning a brand into Dean’s skin through his jeans. Dean was so engrossed watching Cass’s wet, beer-plumped lips move that he didn’t realize Cass had hit the punchline until he smiled. Dean laughed automatically, and Cass’s smile got even wider. 

Cass’s lips moved, again, and Dean realized Cass was saying his name. He looked up, meeting Cass’s eyes, but somehow the electricity between them was too intense—those blue eyes were too intense—and Dean dropped his gaze, taking a sip of his beer. When he glanced up again, Cass was looking at the floor, and Dean swore at himself because everything had been going so well… Although, to be fair, Dean wasn’t entirely sure what exactly it was that had been going well, only that he had spoiled whatever it was. 

Determined to get back the easy camaraderie from before, Dean poked Cass’s knee. “So did I ever tell you about that story my dad used to tell us? The one about the hunter who was convinced his neighbor’s cat was the antichrist?”

Cass, to Dean’s surprise, smirked. “You haven’t, but I feel sure you need to tell me.”

Dean grinned back. “Okay, so my dad knew this hunter, okay? Big guy, like, made Sammy look little kind of big. Anyways, a new guy moves in next door to him with this cat, and the cat decides it owns the garden next door, too, AKA this hunter’s garden…”

By the time Dean had finished the story—which frankly was a classic, and absolutely hilarious—they’d drank another beer and Cass had his head thrown back, laughing in a way that Dean had never seen him do before. He was relaxed and soft around the edges as he laughed, and Dean allowed himself to watch the line of Cass’s throat, as he smiled behind his beer bottle. 


	12. Chapter 12 – Well You Had To Go And Catch Feelings, Didn’t You

As Dean lay in bed that night, struggling to sleep, he turned the evening over in his head. Looking back, he thought he might have figured out what the weird feeling in his chest and stomach was all about. 

Because yeah, okay. Under cover of dark, with no one else around, he could maybe admit to himself that perhaps those encounters with guys when he was a teen were more important that he let himself remember. And maybe, just maybe, he wasn’t as straight as he’d been trying to convince himself of since. 

But all this? This was new. Fooling around in the back seat of a car with a guy was one thing, but this felt like more than that. If Dean was being completely honest with himself, it felt like… like _feelings._

Dean pulled a pillow over his face, screaming silently into it. What the _fuck_. 

***

The following morning, Dean wondered how he was supposed to face Cass, knowing now that he was developing these feeling things for him. 

He needn’t have worried. 

Cass greeted him with the same solemnity as always, then took Sam from Dean and went to change his diaper while Dean made breakfast and fixed Sam’s bottle. It was stupidly, disgustingly domesticated, and it would have annoyed Dean if he hadn’t actually liked the feeling—if he hadn’t felt so good about the whole thing. 

And wasn’t _that_ a can of worms that he definitely didn’t need to open. 

As he washed the breakfast dishes, his phone buzzed in his pocket. It was Sue, from the bar. 

“Hey, Sue.”

_“Hey, Dean. I was wondering if you’d be able to pick up a shift tonight. Just a short one, eight until ten, but Missy’s called in sick and George can’t make it until ten.”_

“Uh, lemme check,” Dean replied, raising an eyebrow at Cass, who had of course heard the whole thing with his super angel hearing. 

Cass nodded his assent, and Dean gave him a thumbs up.

“Yeah, Sue, that’ll be fine.”

_“Excellent. See you tonight, Dean.”_

She ended the call, and Dean said his goodbyes before leaving to go to the hunting store. 

***

Throughout the day, as Dean worked, he tried to focus on his job and the customers, and not on the feeling things that he seemed to have developed suddenly and completely without his consent. He really hoped that Cass couldn’t read his mind as one of his angel powers, because that would be seriously freaking awkward. 

Cass was an angel, for chrissake. Dean had no business feeling this way about an angel. Besides, Dean had to wonder… He knew that Watchers felt attraction and had sex—Cass had told him that—but what about Cass’s type of angel? Did they feel attraction? Did they have sex?

He had a sudden image of Cass, writhing naked underneath him, and his cheeks flamed red. He ducked his head and busied himself restocking the ammo until his face cooled again. 

He told himself sternly that Cass wasn’t really what he wanted. He didn’t want a guy. He’d rather have a nice—or not so nice—girl, with curves for days. But his mind kept circling around to Cass. His blue eyes. His soft smile. What he might look like under his clothes. 

Ugh, dammit all to hell. 

In fact, Dean wondered if he’d rather be back there than dealing with the angel who ‘gripped him tight and raised him from perdition’, a thought that still sent shivers up his spine. Cass was the one who saved him from all of that. Cass’s mark was what he bore to this day. It was Cass’s handprint that was right there on his arm, and Dean felt like that meant something. Maybe it did. 

Of course, maybe it just meant that Dean _really_ needed to get laid, but for the first time in his life he wasn’t sure that getting laid would help him. A meaningless fuck wasn’t something that really appealed to him at that moment, which was not so much unusual as downright unnatural for him. 

Maybe he was sickening for something. 

He thought of the night before, Cass’s hand on his knee as he spoke. He could still feel the touch, and couldn’t help but think he might as well be branded there too. 

He tried not to think the words, but they came anyway. 

_I’m in too deep_. 

By the time he got home that evening, he was already bone-tired and wishing that he hadn’t agreed to do the two hours at the bar. Monday was stock-taking night at the hunting store so Dean had just enough time to have dinner and change before heading out again. 

But when he got in, his dinner was already on the table, and Cass was feeding Sam some baby food. Both of them—and their surroundings—were covered in mashed up carrot, and Cass’s expression was long suffering, his mouth drawn into a pout. 

Dean wanted to kiss that look off his face. 

Instead, he cleared his throat. “Hey, Cass. Hey, Sammy. Thanks for having this ready, Cass. I really appreciate it.”

Cass shrugged, his cheeks a little pink as Dean sat down at the table to eat. It was steak and fries and green beans, his favorite. He wondered if Cass knew that, but Cass was still focused on feeding Sam, and gave nothing away. 

By the time Sam was fed and cleaned, Dean had pretty much finished, and when Cass got up to make Sam’s bottle, Dean held out his hands. “I’ll take him and feed him his bottle, if that's okay, Cass.”

Cass handed Sam over. “Of course. I’ll fix it for you.”

Their hands brushed as Dean took Sam from him, and Dean looked down at the floor, aware that he was blushing. “Thanks,” he muttered. 

Sam stuck his finger up Dean’s nose, making him laugh, and breaking the sudden tension. A few minutes later, he was sitting on the sofa, relaxing as Sam fed. 

“Not sure where you learned to cook like that, Cass,” Dean said at length, smiling over at the angel who was sitting reading again. “But I’m grateful to whoever taught you.”

Cass shrugged, looking uncomfortable. “I used Sam’s laptop to look up instructions,” he said quietly. 

“Wow, Cass, that’s…” _really sweet_ , was what he wanted to say, but settled on, “really cool of you. Thanks.”

Cass shrugged again. “There isn’t much else to do when Sam is napping.”

“Yeah, I’ll bet.” He nodded at the book in Cass’s hands. “Looks like you’re really getting through that, though.”

“Yes. I’m enjoying it immensely. It’s a good example of the horror genre. A lot of suspense.”

“Agreed,” Dean said with a grin. “If you really want to get freaked out, read _Pet Sematary_ next. It’s a classic.”

“I’ll take that under advisement,” Cass replied solemnly, and Dean just wanted…

He wanted to kiss Cass, kiss him until he smiled. He was too serious, always too serious unless he had a few beers in him. Dean wanted to make him smile, and laugh. Wanted to make him happy. 

He swallowed hard and looked down at Sam, who had nearly finished his bottle, eyes drooping with tiredness. Dean let him finish, then sat him up to burp him. 

He handed Sam to Cass, then stretched. “I’d better get to the bar. If I’m late, I’ll get my ass handed to me. Sue’s small, but she’s fierce.”

Cass nodded, taking Sam through to his cot, and Dean sighed, rubbing a hand over his face before grabbing his jacket. 

***

When he got back that evening, at about ten thirty, Cass was lying curled up on the sofa. His expression was sad, and Dean had never seen him look like that before. Creeping back into the hallway, he made a noise with the door, and when he returned to the living room, Cass was sitting up, having put on a smile. 

“How was work?”

“Fine,” Dean said, shrugging. Actually he’d spent the entire time stewing over what the hell he was going to do about Cass, but that was neither here nor there. “I’m tired, though. Gonna head up to bed. Night!”

“Goodnight, Dean,” Cass replied quietly. 

Dean nodded, going up to the bathroom and staring at his reflection in the mirror. _Coward_ , he thought to himself, before brushing his teeth. 

Things were really not going to plan. 


	13. Chapter 13 - Put That Sam Back Where He Came From Or So Help Me

It didn’t get much better the rest of the week, and by the time Friday rolled around, Dean felt like he was going out of his skin. He did a grocery run in the morning, and was relieved that Mandy wasn’t serving. He still felt awkward about that whole deal, although he knew that he couldn’t avoid her forever. Not in a town as small as that. 

He wandered around for a little after, seeing folks he knew from the store or the bar, and saying hello. He suddenly realized that he had acclimated to living like that—like a normal person. It was almost nice to not be in mortal danger all the time, but to relax, just work your hours then go home. Go home to an angel and your little brother who had been magically turned into a baby, but… still. It wasn’t as bad as Dean had anticipated. He stopped into the bookshop and picked up some books for Sam. He saw a book that he thought Cass would like and almost bought it, but paused. He didn’t want Cass to look too much into it. Book bought, he then went into the little toy shop for a stuffed monkey. Sam had always liked monkeys, and this one was really cute, as well as being suitable for small babies. Happy with what he’d bought, he headed back to the house. Back home. 

Once the groceries were put away, he had time to chill. Sammy was rolling around on the living room carpet, and Dean sat with him, reading to him from one of the books he’d found in the store in town, and just enjoying their time together. Sam loved the monkey, cuddling it close and babbling baby talk to it, which was frankly freaking adorable, if bittersweet. He’d rather have his brother full grown and talking to him, but it was still cute. 

He was just starting to think about lunch when Cass came in, looking worried. 

“Where have you been?” Dean asked, curious. 

Cass sighed. “I was called up for Revelation. There’s something coming, Dean. Something big, and we don’t know exactly what. All we know is we’re going to need all the help we can get. We have to turn Sam back.”

Dean frowned. “Well, the spell obviously hasn’t run its course yet, or he’d be back to normal by now. And there’s no way I’m gonna turn him back early and let him go back down the path he was on. That’s not happening. Whatever comes, I’ll deal with it.”

“And who will look after Sam while we’re ‘dealing with it’?” Cass asked, in a tone that implied Dean was being unreasonable. 

“I can handle it myself,” Dean growled, glaring. “And you can babysit. I’m not putting Sam in any more danger of turning evil, Cass. I’m just not. It’s not gonna happen, and that’s the end of it.”

Cass took a deep breath, then shook his head. “Sam needs fed,” he said instead, and picked him up, whisking him through to the kitchen. 

Dean moved over to the sofa, his appetite gone. 

Cass returned with Sam and his bottle, feeding him and avoiding Dean’s eyes. The tension in the room was palpable, increasing the longer they sat. 

As soon as Sam was fed and burped, Cass took him upstairs for his nap. When he returned, Dean realized that he was stirring for a fight. By the looks of things, Cass was too. 

Dean stood. 

“It’s not happening, Cass. I know what you’re gonna say, but you’re wrong. We’re not doing this. End of story.”

“And when the world is in peril because of your selfishness?” Cass spat, then blinked, as though he knew he’d crossed a line. 

“Selfishness?” Dean tried to keep his voice low. He didn’t want to wake Sam. “ _Selfishness_? After all I’ve done, all I’ve sacrificed, you’re calling me selfish? Fuck you, Cass. Fuck. You. I have done nothing all my life but do things for other people. I’ve saved the world more times than I can count, so don’t you come at me with that bullshit. You know what’s selfish? Trying to cause the apocalypse and using innocent people as your pawns.”

Cass flushed deep red. “And I’m sorry for that. But you’re endangering the world…”

“I don’t care. I _don’t care_. Sammy is safe or I don’t fight. There’s no third option.”

“Dean…”

“No! You are not using your angel magic on him and I’m not gonna help, so you’re stuck with this one option, pal.”

Dean realized he was right up in Cass’s face, both of them breathing heavily, angrily, and Dean…

Dean grabbed hold of the back of Cass’s head and pulled him hard into a furious kiss. 

He let go, and Cass pulled back for a second, blue eyes dark and stormy, but before Dean could apologize, Cass dragged him back into the kiss. Dean could barely process it. Cass was kissing him back, actually _kissing him back,_ and before he knew where he was, they were tearing at each other’s clothes, trying to get closer, trying to get skin on skin as quickly as possible. 

Under his shirt Cass wasn’t as toned as Dean, but Dean couldn’t have cared less about the slight swell of his belly, the slight roundedness of his chest. What he cared about was the dick he could feel, hard and hot and heavy against his thigh. 

Dean pushed Cass down onto the sofa and straddled him, kissing him again and again as they tried to divest themselves of pants and underwear. As soon as they were naked, Dean wrapped his hand around both of them, dragging his palm slowly up their hot lengths. Cass gasped—just a small noise against Dean’s mouth, but fuck, it boiled his blood. 

He worked them both frantically, not wanting it to end but also racing toward completion, his pleasure mounting, then he was coming, hard, gasping out Cass’s name. He kept stroking, the slickness of his come easing the way, and Cass groaned, the noise of it making Dean’s spent cock twitch, coming in thick ropes over Dean’s fingers. 

Their kisses began to slow, and Dean pulled back a little to look at the cooling mess between them. But when he looked back up, Cass’s expression was horrified, and Dean’s heart plummeted into his stomach. 

“Cass?” he managed hoarsely, but Cass didn’t answer. He scrambled out from underneath Dean, snapping his fingers so he was fully clothed again, and disappeared. 

Dean flopped back into the sofa, pinching the bridge of his nose with his clean left hand. 

_Well, shit_. 


	14. Chapter 14 - Missing: One Angel Of The Lord. If Found, Please Return To Dean Winchester.

Dean had to call into work for that night, saying there had been a family emergency over the weekend and he wouldn’t be back until the following week. All he could do was hope that Cass would comeback before Monday. He couldn’t afford to miss more work, and there was no one else that he would trust with Sam while he was out. 

But the following morning, Cass still hadn’t returned. Dean was starting to worry—what if Cass had gone somewhere and got himself hurt? He got Sammy up and dressed, and took him downstairs to feed him. Sam was particularly fussy that morning, and pushed away the spoonful of baby food as Dean tried to feed him. 

“Come on, Sammy,” he groaned, sighing. “Just eat your food, yeah?”

Sam whined, wriggling in Dean’s arms, but was hungry enough that he reluctantly allowed Dean to feed him. The applesauce went pretty much everywhere, though, and Dean sighed again as he cleaned them both up. Sam drank his bottle, but as soon as he was burped, he began to fuss again, whining and crying. 

Dean got up, pacing the floor with him and bouncing him gently, but Sam was not to be soothed. It seemed like he could sense there was something wrong. Dean tried to clear his mind and calm himself, but thoughts of Cass, face flushed and eyes dark with pleasure, kept popping into his head, along with concerns about where the angel might be. 

Sam’s nap was the only respite Dean had all day, and he spent the time napping fitfully on the sofa. The rest of the day was spent walking miles around the house with Sam, trying to calm him. By the time Sam was put down to sleep that evening, Dean was exhausted. 

But there was still no sign of Cass, and Dean was getting seriously anxious about where he might have gone. What if he _never_ came back? What if Dean had scared him off for good? Was he so ashamed of Dean that he didn’t want to face him again?

Unsure what else to do, he took out his phone and dialed a familiar number. 

_“Dean?”_ Bobby said as soon as he answered. _“What’s wrong? Is Sam okay?”_

“Sam’s fine, Bobby,” Dean replied wearily. “Still a baby, but he’s fine. It’s Cass. He disappeared last night and he hasn’t come back yet. I’m worried about him, Bobby. I wondered if maybe he’d come to you?”

_“I haven’t seen him. Something must have happened, though, for him to take off like that. Wanna fill me in?”_

“Nothing, nothing happened,” Dean said quickly. “We… We had an argument. About Sam. That’s all. And then he left.”

_“I’m calling bullshit,”_ Bobby said with a snort. _“But if you did have an argument, you need to suck it up and apologize. You can’t do this on your own, kid. You need him.”_

Dean knew he needed Cass; it was Bobby who didn’t realize how much. But he didn’t say that. Nor did he say that the idea of sucking was half the problem. 

“Yeah, okay. If he comes back, I’ll apologize. Thanks, Bobby.”

_“Stay safe, kid.”_

Dean ended the call with a groan. The whole situation was fucked up, because Dean… he was pretty much straight. He was. Aside from his teenage years he’d only ever really wanted to be with women. But there was something about Cass that made him want… something else. 

Maybe he was Cass-sexual. But no, that was ridiculous. He definitely loved having sex with women. But Cass was, well, Cass. And Dean wanted Cass. 

What a goddamn mess. 

He went through to the kitchen to fetch a beer, opening it and throwing the top into the trash with accuracy born of practice. Heading back into the living room, he sat on the sofa and had just taken his first sip when Cass reappeared, right in front of him. 

Dean coughed, the beer having gone down the wrong way in his surprise. 

“Jesus, Cass,” he managed between coughs. “Really wish you wouldn’t do that. I swear to God, I’m gonna start putting a bell around your neck.”

Cass shifted from one foot to another, looking like he was ready to bolt any second. He said nothing, and Dean sighed. 

“Want a beer?” he asked easily, trying to make it less awkward so Cass wouldn’t just disappear again. 

Cass looked torn for a moment, like he knew he shouldn’t, but then to Dean’s surprise he nodded slowly. Dean went to fetch him one from the refrigerator, handing it to him carefully before sitting back down on the sofa. 

Cass sat on the armchair, perching awkwardly, as if ready to disappear any moment. 

“So why did you leave?” Dean asked without preamble. “Why did you come back?”

Cass looked at his beer as though it was the most interesting thing he’d ever seen. “I came back because I have a sworn duty to protect you and Sam,” he said quietly. 

“And as for leaving?”

Cass moved his gaze to the floor, still avoiding Dean’s eyes. “I… I won’t—I can’t—be one of your conquests,” he said at length, and Dean’s eyes went wide. “I’m an angel. A warrior. Pleasures of the flesh are not for me. I shouldn’t have done what… what we did. I broke all the rules. I don’t want to be cast out, and they’d have a right to do it. I broke their rules, Dean.”

“To hell with the rules,” Dean spat. “Do you want this? Do you want…” _Me_ , he wanted to ask, but was too afraid of the answer to finish his sentence. 

“It’s not about what I want,” Cass said, finally looking up and meeting Dean’s eyes. The haunted look in those blue depths made Dean’s chest hurt. “It’s about what’s right. And I know you don’t want this either. It’s not you. Not really. You don’t—can’t—want this.”

“Can’t I?” Dean growled, then downed his beer. “Fuck this. I’m going to bed.”

He swept out the room, up the stairs, and got ready for bed, fuming as he went. Who the hell did Cass think he was, telling Dean what he did and didn’t and could and couldn’t want? Whatever was happening here, whatever it meant, Dean knew he wanted it as much as he’d ever wanted anything in his life. It scared him—terrified him, actually. He could cope with monsters and ghosts and ghouls and demons, but feelings that ran deep enough for him to want to throw caution to the wind?

That was another kind of scary altogether. 

He burrowed under the duvet, wrapping it around him and sliding down so only half his face, from his nose upward, was out. It wasn’t cold, but the weight of the duvet was comforting. He squirmed slightly, still furious about what Cass had said to him. Squeezing his eyes shut, he willed himself to sleep. 

But sleep was a long time coming. 


	15. Chapter 15 - The One Where It All Goes To Hell (Or Rather: The One Where Hell Comes To Visit)

Dean woke on Monday morning with a groan. The last few days had been hell—no pun intended—as he and Cass tried to avoid each other as much as possible while still looking after Sam. 

He got up and showered, dressing in work-appropriate clothes, then went in to check on Sam. He wasn’t there, so Dean strode downstairs to see Cass already feeding him. He nodded coldly at Cass, wiggling his fingers to Sam, who giggled before accepting another spoonful of applesauce. Toast was the quickest thing to make and eat, so that’s what Dean had, washing it down with some OJ and coffee. He said goodbye to Sam, still ignoring Cass, and left for work. 

It was quiet in the shop that day, so Dean spent his time stocking the shelves and talking to David about some new shotguns they’d got in. 

Around lunchtime, a group of three young men came into the store, laughing boisterously. Dean nodded to them. 

“Can I help you?”

“We’re going hunting in the forest just outside of town,” one of the guys said, as his friend poked him in the side, making him laugh again. “Figure we’ll bag us a deer or two.”

David raised an eyebrow. “You’re really going into _those_ woods? The haunted woods?”

“Aww, c’mon, man,” another of the men said, shaking his head. “They ain’t haunted. That’s just an old folk tale.”

David shook his head. “Boys, I’ve been alive a lot longer than you and believe me, there’s _something_ in those woods.”

The men just laughed, and Dean helped them pick out a few shotguns and a rifle, with plenty of ammo. 

***

At ten to four, Dean was about to ask if he could stay late that night to stock when the local sheriff came in, tipping his hat to Dean and David. 

“Hey, fellas. Don’t suppose a group came in here earlier, talking about hunting in the woods just out of town?”

David and Dean exchanged a glance. “Yeah, they did,” David replied. “Something happen?”

“You could say that,” the sheriff said gruffly. “Reports of screaming from the woods about a half hour ago. I went out myself, but couldn’t find the boys, just a lot of blood. We’re sending out search parties. Any chance you could help?”

David nodded. “Of course. Let me just close up the shop. We’ll meet you there.”

“Thanks,” the sheriff said. “We need folk who can look out for themselves. Those woods give me the creeps.” He shuddered, then left the store, and David gave Dean a shotgun and a box of shells. Dean wished he had time to run back to the impala for salt shells, given what David had said about the woods being haunted, but there wasn’t time and Dean didn’t really want to have to explain things. 

The woods were lovely, dark, and deep, and Dean had a _bad fucking feeling_ about the whole venture. The search parties spread out, calling for the guys, and they were deep in the woods when Dean spotted it. 

A pile of entrails, looking to be about three adults’ worth. 

He wasn’t the only one who had spotted the pile, and a number of people went behind trees to vomit, which was just exactly what Dean wanted to witness. He looked up, to see a large rock, and his blood ran cold. 

There were sigils on the rock, carved and painted in blood. And damn it all, Dean knew those sigils. Knew them well. And they spelled exactly nothing good. 

He turned back to yell at the rest of the search party to get out of there, but before he could say anything, the ground began to shake, and a crack opened in the forest floor. Unarmed with anything that would help, Dean did the only thing he could think of—he closed his eyes, and prayed for a miracle. 

At first, there was nothing—nothing but the roaring of the flames in his ears. But then, suddenly…

Dean opened his eyes at the familiar noise. 

Angels—plural, and fiery and with swords—surrounded the flames. As black, demonic smoke began pouring from the hole, the angels began swinging their swords, striking the demons down before they could possess or manifest. 

As Dean watched, unable to move, one of the angels fired a spear at the sigil-covered rock, shattering it into pieces. The flames roared higher as the ground began to shake again, and the hole…

The hole started to close over. 

Everything was as it had been. 

The angels nodded at Dean, before disappearing. 

The others in the search party, who had fallen to the ground when the earth had first started to shake, began to get up, dusting themselves off. 

“Was that an earthquake?” one of them asked. 

“I think so,” the sheriff replied. “Okay, folks. This is a crime scene now. Everyone go home, and thank you for your help. I’ll find the others and let the families know what we’ve found.”

Dean followed the others out of the woods, wondering why he was the only one who seemed to know what had really happened. He caught up with David, who shook his head. 

“I told those kids this forest wasn’t a place to go hunting,” he said quietly. “I know all their folks. What a tragedy.”

“Yeah,” Dean replied, before stopping in his tracks. They had reached the road, where Cass was waiting, Sam in his arms, standing next to the impala. “It’s my brother,” he told David, deliberately not specifying which one so he wasn’t technically lying. 

David sighed. “Go home, Dean. I’m gonna close up shop early out of respect. I’ll pay you for the full day.”

“Thanks, David. Stay safe.”

“You too, Dean.”

Dean nodded and got into the driver’s seat as Cass strapped Sam into the back, before getting into the passenger side. 

“You drove here?” Dean asked. 

“I pay attention,” Cass replied simply, then frowned. “I know what happened.”

Of course he did. Must have sensed a disturbance in the force or whatever. 

“We… Dean, we need to talk,” Cass said. 

“Yeah,” Dean replied, feeling determined. “Yeah, we do.”

They didn’t get a chance until after dinner. Cass took Sam up to bed, taking his time while Dean sat on the sofa, turning his beer nervously in his hands. 

When Cass came back down, coat off and tie loosened, Dean couldn’t take it anymore. He stalked up to Cass, giving him a moment to protest, and when he didn’t, Dean leaned in. And Cass…

Cass kissed him right back. 


	16. Chapter 16 - Before You Walk The Walk, You Gotta Have The Talk

Just as Dean was getting really into it, Cass broke the kiss, looking fearfully at Dean. 

“What are you doing?” he asked hoarsely. “You don’t even like men this way. I know you. You like women, and only women.”

Dean raised an eyebrow. “Yours isn’t the first dick I’ve touched, if that’s what you’re worried about.” 

Cass narrowed his eyes. “What?”

“Why, jealous?” Dean asked, smirking. “Look, I’ll be honest with you. I have mostly been with women. When I was a teenager, I… It doesn’t matter. What matters is us. Here. Now.”

Cass opened his mouth to reply, then gave himself a shake. “Dean, I… I can’t. Carnality isn’t permitted for angels. I told you what happened to the Watchers who disobeyed.”

“But you’re in human form,” Dean reasoned. “You’re here, on earth, among humans, and I’ve gone and caught feelings for you and I can’t…”

“Feelings?” Cass interrupted him, eyes wide like a deer trapped in headlights. 

“Well, yeah,” Dean replied. “Did you think I just wanted a fuck? Buddy, there are plenty of women out there who would be willing and ready to sleep with me, but that’s not what I want. I want…” Dean took a deep, steadying breath. “I want you, okay?”

Cass looked at him for a long moment, expression torn, before dragging him into a bruising kiss. 

It was as frantic as before, but this time Dean wanted to be comfortable. He pulled Cass out of the living room and up the stairs, as clothes flew everywhere. By the time they reached Dean’s bedroom, they were down to underwear and socks, and as soon as they were inside, Cass shoved Dean against the wall. He leaned in, nipping at Dean’s throat, and Dean… God, Dean was seriously into Cass manhandling him like that. He filed that knowledge away for later, focusing on the feel of Cass’s teeth against his skin. 

“Oh God, want you, Cass, need you,” Dean gasped out, needy as though he would die if he didn’t say the words. Then Cass’s mouth was on his again, and Dean grabbed Cass’s ass, pulling him closer and moaning at the friction. Cass was as hard as him, cock pushing against his hip, but suddenly Cass broke the kiss, pulling back and looking… shy?

“I don’t…” Cass took a deep breath, before saying in a rush, “Dean, you know I have no experience with this. I know the mechanics of… certain things, on a purely theoretical basis, but I don’t. I don’t really know what I’m doing.” 

Dean looked at Cass, aware that his expression was as gooey as it had ever been, completely overcome with _feelings_. He still wasn’t happy about it, but if he had to fall for anyone, at least it was someone who got who and what he was. 

“Don’t worry,” Dean said softly. “I’ll guide you.”

Cass nodded, then leaned in, and _oh_. They were kissing again, but it was gentler now, less hurried. Dean led Cass over to the bed, lying down beside him and stripping off both their socks before reaching for him, drawing him into another kiss. 

They lay there until Dean lost track of time, until his lips were numb, keeping their kisses soft until they couldn’t be. Until Cass bit gently on Dean’s lip, and suddenly they were scrabbling at each other’s underwear in a bid to get skin on skin. 

Dean spat into his palm, reaching down to jerk Cass slow and easy, and Cass gasped that little gasp again, the one that drove Dean wild last time. Following Dean’s lead, Cass got his hand spit-wet, then dragged his palm over Dean’s shaft before starting to work his cock. Cass’s hands were a little calloused, like Dean’s, and the friction—even with the spit to ease the way—was enough to make Dean moan, soul deep. They continued to kiss as they stroked each other, as though their kisses were all that was sustaining them, and Dean wasn’t gonna last long if Cass kept on moaning into his mouth like that. 

Cass pulled back suddenly, making the most amazing noises as he came, cock pulsing in Dean’s hand, and it was enough to push Dean over the edge too, gasping out Cass’s name as he spilled between them. 

Then Cass’s mouth was back on his, and they kissed and kissed, spunk cooling on their bellies and hands between them. At length, Dean drew back with a smile, grabbing some tissues off the bedside cabinet and cleaning them up carefully. 

“Stay,” he said softly, and Cass nodded. 

“Okay,” he agreed. Dean couldn’t help his grin, and he threw the tissues on the floor by the bed before snuggling up to Cass, lying his head on Cass’s chest. Cass’s arms wrapped around him, one hand drawing lazy patterns on Dean’s arm. It was about as damn perfect as he’d ever felt. They’d have to get up soon enough to do Sam’s first nighttime feed, but for now, Dean wanted to enjoy this feeling. This closeness. He shut his eyes, and allowed the sound of Cass’s breathing to lull him into slumber. 


	17. Chapter 17 - If You Want Something Done Right… Ask Bobby For Help Because You’re A Damn Idgit

It had been a full week now—a week of absolute bliss, because Cass hadn’t said he took it back; had, in fact, become more adventurous than Dean could have imagined. Dean now knew that he had a pretty awesome natural talent for sucking cock, thanks to a few morning rounds, and he himself had gotten Cass’s heavenly—pun intended—mouth around him a couple of times too. Cass may not have been quite as naturally talented, but he was certainly enthusiastic, drawing moans and gasps from Dean’s lips like prayers. 

So there was that. 

There was one thing weighing on his mind, however: Sam. It had been well over a month now, and Sam was still a baby. Dean was pretty sure that if the spell was gonna work, then it should have worked by now, and Sam should have been back to his usual, irritating self. But he was still a baby, and Dean was worried. Worried that he would be a baby forever, or at least a lot longer than Dean had been expecting. Plus there was the fact that Rufus was coming back in two weeks, so they really had to fix it ASAP. 

He was buttering his toast for breakfast when two strong arms wrapped around his waist from behind, and a kiss was dropped on the back of his neck. 

“I really hope that’s you, Cass,” Dean murmured playfully. 

“Were you expecting anyone else?” Cass asked, voice rumbling through Dean’s back. 

“Oh, I don’t know,” Dean replied, turning in the circle of Cass’s arms to face him. “Maybe some tall, dark and handsome stranger, wanting to sweep me off my feet.”

Cass smirked, and lifted Dean into a bridal carry, and they laughed until Cass put him down, leaning in for a kiss. 

“You gonna go get Sammy?” Dean asked against Cass’s lips, and Cass nodded. 

Dean wolfed down his toast before fixing Sam’s baby food and bottle, ready for when Cass reappeared with him. 

After Sam had eaten his breakfast—spreading at least half of it around the kitchen, as usual—Dean took out his phone. 

“I’m gonna phone Bobby,” he told Cass. “It feels like Sam should have been back to normal already, and I don’t know what else to do.”

Cass kissed him softly. “I think you’re right.”

Dean nodded, and dialed Bobby’s number. “Hey, Bobby.”

_“Dean. To what do I owe the pleasure of your call?”_

“No need to be so sarcastic, Bobby,” Dean said with a nervous laugh. “I need your advice.”

_“On what?”_

“Sam. Bobby, I feel like he should be back to normal by now, but he’s still a baby and I don’t know what I’ve done wrong.”

Bobby’s response was to cuss Dean out for a solid five minutes, and Dean winced an increasing amount with every word of the tirade. When Bobby finally slowed to a halt, he sighed. _“So what do you need me to do?”_

“Could you maybe come down here and bring the book? I feel like maybe I missed something.”

_“Sure, kid. I’ll be there in a few hours.”_

“Thanks, Bobby. See you soon.” He ended the call and looked up at Cass. “He’s on his way.”

“Good,” Cass said. “Hopefully he can help.”

“Yeah,” Dean said. “Yeah, I hope so.”

***

“So what you’re saying is,” Dean said slowly, “I missed an entire section because the pages were stuck together.”

“You damn idgit,” Bobby replied. “That’s exactly what I’m saying.”

Dean was pretty sure the pages had been stuck together with blood, which he hoped was demonic but was too afraid to ask. 

Some chalk marks and chanted words later, and Sam _poofed_ back into his adult self. He was also, unfortunately, completely naked. 

“Aw, Sammy,” Dean whined, covering his eyes with his hand. “I really didn’t need to see that.”

“Dean?” Sam sounded totally confused, which wasn’t exactly surprising. “Where are we? Last I knew we were in Bobby’s barn…”

“Just… get some damn clothes on, then we’ll talk,” Dean replied, eyes still covered. 

“I can help with that,” Cass said, clicking his fingers, and Dean took his hand from his eyes to see that Sam was fully clothed. Instead of rushing to hug his brother, however, Dean couldn’t help the speculative look he shot Cass. If he could put clothes _on_ with a snap of his fingers…

Cass noticed Dean looking at him, correctly interpreted Dean’s thoughts, and ducked his head, blushing. 

Dean cleared his throat, and went over to hug Sam. “How do you feel? Is the barn really the last thing you remember?”

“Yeah,” Sam said slowly. “And I feel… different. Lighter. Like the darkness inside is gone.”

Dean grinned. That was definitely a win in his book. 

***

They spent the rest of the evening drinking Dean’s beer—not Cass, which Dean would ask him about later—and catching up on the last couple of months. Dean told them about what had happened in the forest, and how Cass had been great with Sam as a baby. Sam looked a little embarrassed about the fact that both Dean and Cass had changed his diapers, but they spoke about it so matter-of-factly that Sam was soon back to joking around. 

“You’re welcome to stay, Bobby,” Dean told him, given how late it was. He’d called into the bar to quit, seeing as how they’d be moving on soon. He’d call David tomorrow. 

“Think I will. I’ll have to leave first thing, though. Got to see a man about a dog.”

They all laughed, and Dean sat back, hooking his ankle around Cass’s under the table. Yeah. Life was pretty good. 

***

Cass didn’t stay in his bed with him that night, which was disappointing although Dean understood why. Bobby left the following morning, as promised, although he didn’t even stay for breakfast, which surprised Dean. 

As he and Sam ate scrambled eggs and buttered toast, Sam sighed. “So, anything else new?”

Dean and Cass exchanged a look, and Cass got up from the table. 

“I, uh, have to check in with the heavenly host,” he said awkwardly, before disappearing. 

Sam raised an eyebrow at Dean, who immediately blushed, then blushed even harder at Sam’s grin. 

“Uh, yeah,” Dean muttered. “There are some things that are new.”

He was already aware that Sam would tease him until the end of time about this, as Sam burst into peals of laughter. Not about the fact that Cass was a guy—Sam was many things, but he wasn’t actually an asshole. No, Sam would never let him live down the fact that Dean had to go and catch feelings for an actual angel of the Lord. 

Which, fair. 

At least by the time Cass came back, Sam had stopped laughing, or at least just about, and he gave them a knowing smirk. 

“I’ll leave you two to talk,” he said, his tone smug. 

Dean gave him the finger as he left. 

“So how did it go?” Dean asked, suddenly nervous. 

“They know. About us. They know about our relationship.”

Dean knew that one word shouldn’t make him feel so warm and fuzzy, dammit, but it did. “And?”

“They told me I was breaking the rules and in danger of falling.”

Mouth suddenly dry, Dean managed to whisper, “And what did you say?”

Cass shrugged. “I told them to shove their rules. That if I fell, I fell, but I’m staying with you, you and Sam, until I’m no longer wanted. Whenever that may be.”

Dean grinned, getting up and pulling Cass into a deep kiss. 

He liked the sound of that. 


	18. Epilogue - Earth Plus Fire Equals Instant Combustion

“So the suspect works at an adult store in town,” Sam said, and Dean’s ears immediately pricked up. 

“Then I guess we’ll have to go visit him at work!”

He stood from the table where they’d been sitting, watching as Sam sighed. They’d been working in Sam’s motel room—now that Dean and Cass were a thing ( _don’t say boyfriends, don’t say boyfriends_ ), Sam refused to share a room. 

“I don’t care what you get up to together, but first, I don’t wanna see it, and second, you are not making me sleep in the car every night.”

Dean had relented, not at all grudgingly. It was nice to have his own space where he and Cass could do whatever they wanted, whenever they wanted. 

And Dean _always_ wanted Cass. 

Sam had been back to his grumpy, adult self for three months now, and what a three months it had been for Dean. It was the first real, steady relationship he’d had in… well. Ever, really. At least, it was the first relationship that felt like _this_. And, to be honest, Dean was… Well, he was enjoying it. He was enjoying getting off on a regular basis for one thing, with someone who was learning what he liked and how he liked it. He was enjoying waking up with Cass curled around his back and an arm slung over his waist. It had always been him and Sam against the world; now he had someone else on his side. 

Cass was about to follow them out to the car when Dean shook his head, pressing a brief kiss to Cass’s lips. “You wait here. Maybe I’ll pick you up a surprise while we’re out.”

Cass’s lips quirked into a lopsided smile. “Okay.”

Dean kissed him again, a quick peck, as Sam gagged in the background. 

“You got a problem, Sammy?” Dean asked as he slid into his baby’s driver’s seat. 

“Seeing my big brother macking on an angel is a little much for this time in the morning.”

Dean laughed. “Sam. It’s one p.m.”

And that was the other thing. Although Dean still had a beer or two, he didn’t drink half as much as he had done. No one wants whiskey dick. Sam had drank a _lot_ the night before, though. No wonder he was feeling it. 

“Do I look like I care?” Sam groused, wincing at the sunlight. “Just drive, will ya?”

It didn’t take long to find the adult store, and Dean couldn’t help but look around while Sam quizzed the guy they’d been looking for. Handcuffs? Nah, Cass and Dean both knew Dean could pick those in a second. A cock ring had possibilities. 

As he went to look at the next shelf, Sam came over, paling when he saw what Dean was browsing. 

“Is that…?”

Dean held one up. “It’s a butt plug, Sammy,” he said with a grin. 

Sam, if possible, went even paler. Dean smirked. 

“You know, I like the look of this one,” he said, picking up a slightly smaller, vibrating one. “Oh, and I’ll need this,” he added, picking up a giant bottle of lube. 

“I’ll wait outside,” Sam said, sounding a little nauseated. 

Dean bought them, because the whole thing was too much fun not to follow through with. The look on Sam’s face when Dean came out of the store, bag in hand, made his day. 

***

Sam was in his room, researching on the internet, while Cass helped with reference books, leaving Dean to look again at what he’d bought. He and Cass hadn’t gone near butt stuff, as though by unspoken agreement, but Dean was nothing if not adventurous and the plug intrigued him. 

It was about as wide as two of his fingers. 

Dean frowned, making a decision. Just because he hadn't done anything didn’t mean he hadn’t researched. Climbing into the shower, he scrubbed and cleaned everywhere. 

Once he was dry, Dean lay face down on the bed, toy and lube beside him. He took a deep breath, then slicked up the fingers on his right hand and got up on all fours. Reaching behind himself, he began teasing at his asshole with one finger, barely dipping the tip inside. It was… a really odd sensation, but actually sort of pleasurable. 

Cautiously, he slid a finger inside, then let out the breath he’d been holding. It was still strange, but it was kinda turning him on a little. His cock, which had been dangling soft under his belly, twitched as he began to move the finger. 

He added a second, and while the stretch was strange, it wasn’t painful—or at least not until he began spreading his fingers to stretch himself open. That stung a little, and he swallowed a yelp. 

Determined, he kept on, slower this time. He was starting to get hot all over as he thought about the sight he must make—thought about what would happen if Cass walked in and saw him with his fingers inside himself. 

As though Dean’s thoughts had summoned him, Cass opened the door, spotted Dean, and quickly closed the door again behind him. 

“Dean?”

Dean couldn’t stop the somewhat hysterical laugh that bubbled over. 

“Hey, Cass.”

He ducked his head for a moment; when he lifted it, Cass was naked and stalking toward the bed. 

“What are you doing?” Cass asked, using what Dean had come to call Cass’s Sex Voice, and Dean whimpered. 

“What does it look like I’m doing?” he bit out. “I hope you locked that door.”

Cass waved a hand toward the door. “It’s locked now,” he said, kneeling beside Dean on the bed and running his hands all over Dean’s body. When he reached Dean’s ass, he hesitated, as though unsure of his welcome. 

“Please,” Dean moaned, and Cass bit his lip. 

“What do you want?”

Dean drew his fingers out slowly, then turned onto his back, wiping his hand on the comforter before dragging Cass down for a deep kiss. 

“Put your fingers in me, please?”

Cass closed his eyes for a brief moment, then nodded again. “What do I do?” he asked hoarsely. 

Dean handed him the lube. “Get your fingers wet with this,” he replied. 

“Okay.” Cass poured some lube onto his fingers, spreading it around until they were all glistening wet. 

“Now, put one inside me,” Dean told him. 

Cass hesitated. “Are you… sure?”

Dean didn’t want to admit that he’d done some research on this. He simply nodded. “Yeah. Maybe put two in, I've already been loosening up.”

“Okay,” Cass said, swallowing audibly. He moved into a more comfortable position between Dean’s spread thighs, and pressed two fingers inside. 

“Oh my god,” Dean groaned. He knew that Cass’s fingers weren’t bigger than his, but somehow they felt that way. “Okay, so maybe you could look for my, uh…”

“Your prostate?” Cass said, eyebrow raised. 

“Yeah. Wait, how do you…?”

Cass blushed. “I have had to delete my browsing history on Sam’s laptop several times.”

“Oh fuck,” Dean managed, biting his lip. “Okay, one, that’s hot, and two, please never mention my brother while your fingers are in my ass.”

“Noted.” Cass frowned in concentration, moving his fingers deeper into Dean’s ass, when suddenly…

“Oh my God, fucking Jesus, _Cass_!” Dean’s hips came off the bed without his permission as Cass hit a spot inside him that made sparks fly up his spine. “There, right there, oh my God, yes.”

Cass looked smug, the absolute bastard. Dean’s cock, which had been only taking a slight interest in the proceedings before this point, began to harden. 

“You should probably keep it down,” Cass said, far too calmly for someone who had their fingers in another man’s ass, as he stroked over that spot, making Dean keen loudly. 

A banging on the wall separating his room from Sam’s drove the point home. 

“Yeah, okay, keeping quiet, gotcha,” Dean panted. “Oh, fuck, Cass!”

“Can you take another finger?” Cass asked, the flush on his cheeks belying the calm tone of his voice. 

Dean nodded. “Yes, oh God, please, Cass!”

“Shh,” Cass hushed him. “I’ll take care of you.” He drew his fingers out a little before pressing in a third, and _okay_. Wow. 

Dean took a few deep breaths, trying to adjust. 

“Are you alright?” Cass asked, brow furrowing in concern. 

Dean nodded. “Yeah, just. Gimme a sec.”

Cass looked down at him, then spat in his left palm and began jacking Dean’s cock, slow and easy, as he pressed his fingers more firmly inside. 

“Oh fuck, Cass, yeah.” Dean managed to look only to see Cass was hard, his cock already beading precome at the tip. “Fuck, I… I want your dick in me.”

Cass’s eyes widened in shock. “Right now?”

That startled a nervous laugh from Dean. “Well, I mean, once you’ve fingered me some more, yeah.” He paused, panicked. “Wait, do you not want that?”

Cass’s eyes went dark, and he bent down to give Dean a fierce, deep kiss. “I really want to get inside you,” he murmured against Dean’s lips. 

Dean nodded. “Cool.”

Cass drew back and kept fingering Dean while working his cock, occasionally brushing against that spot inside of him. After the third time of being unable to muffle his cries of pleasure, he heard the door of Sam’s room slamming, and he and Cass both giggled. 

“I guess now we don’t have to be so quiet,” Dean managed as he laughed. 

“Good,” Cass growled. “I love the noises you make.”

Dean’s face heated up so much he was pretty sure you could fry an egg on it. “You do?”

“Yes. I love it when you’re noisy. I especially love it when you beg.”

“I don’t beg,” Dean said, pouting. Cass twisted his fingers, hitting that spot again, and Dean went damn near cross eyed with pleasure. “Oh fuck, Cass, please, please! Want you now, please!”

Cass smirked, but didn’t push his luck. “Are you sure?”

Dean took a deep breath. “Yeah. I’m sure.”

Hesitating, Cass looked down. “Do you have… prophylactics?” 

Dean cursed under his breath. “Wallet, pants pocket. Check the date. I haven’t needed them for a while.”

The smile Cass gave him was as downright beautiful as it was filthy. 

Pulling his fingers carefully out of Dean’s ass, Cass found the condom and knelt on the bed, looking slightly lost. 

“Let me,” Dean said gruffly, and Cass nodded, handing the foil packet to Dean and shifting so Dean could reach his cock. He pumped the shaft a few times, making Cass moan, before rolling the condom down slightly awkwardly. He’d done this a million times on himself; never on someone else. 

“You’re good,” he said softly, and Cass smiled at him as he coated his cock liberally in lube. 

As Cass positioned himself, Dean took a deep breath, suddenly realizing that they were _really doing this_ , and Cass stroked his clean hand over Dean’s chest to his cock. 

“Are you sure?”

Dean looked up into those beautiful blue eyes, and his nerves calmed. It was Cass. It would be okay. 

“I’m sure,” Dean replied, and Cass nodded before starting to push forward. 

Oh, _fuck_. 

That was the weirdest fucking feeling. It hurt, the pressure just on the wrong side of painful, and he breathed out heavily through his nose. 

Cass paused. “Are you alright?” he asked gently—too gently for being buried at least two inches in Dean’s ass—and Dean smothered a hysterical giggle. 

Instead, he nodded. “Yeah, just gimme a second.”

“Okay.” Cass stilled his hips and shifted onto one hand, using his right to stroke Dean’s flagging cock. The pleasure of Cass’s hand on him warred with the pressure in his muscles, and he took a few deep breaths. He felt himself begin to relax around Cass’s cock, and he reached up, cupping Cass’s cheek in his palm. 

“More. You can… more,” he managed, knowing it didn’t quite make sense. But Cass seemed to understand anyway, and smiled down at him. 

Even with the slick glide of the lube there was still some friction as Cass pushed inside, slower now. Dean couldn’t stop the gasps and low hisses that escaped his lips, and as Cass’s hips pressed against his ass, he let out a long breath. 

“Oh my God, Dean.” Cass’s expression was that of a man having a religious experience. Maybe that wasn’t so far from the truth. 

“You alright there, Cass?” He meant for it to sound snarky, but it came out more like a breathy moan as his body adjusted to being so, so full of Cass’s cock. 

“Shouldn’t I be asking you that?” Cass’s own voice was strained, and Dean took another deep breath. 

“Tell me.”

“Your ass is so tight around me. It’s so…” He trailed off, staring down at Dean as though seeing him for the first time. “You’re amazing.”

Dean was pretty sure if he got any redder his whole head would explode. “I’m not…”

“You are,” Cass insisted, drawing his thumb across Dean’s cheekbone, down to press on his lower lip. “And I love you.”

“Cass.” Something was prickling behind his eyelids—it wasn’t tears. Couldn’t be. “Cass, I…”

“It’s okay.” Cass’s expression was gentle— _loving_ —but also understanding. “You don’t have to say it back. But you should know I do.”

Dean blinked a few times, his eyes hot, and swallowed. “Please. Move.”

Cass leaned on his hands and began to move, to fuck him, with slow, unsure, movements. Dean was too overcome to do anything but moan at the feel of Cass’s cock deep inside him, drawing out and then thrusting back inside. The feeling was shifting from discomfort to pleasure, and he spat on his palm, reaching down to touch himself. He hadn’t realized how intimate it would feel to have Cass inside of him, to feel Cass so deep, to barely be able to tell where he began and Cass ended. He hadn’t known how emotionally wrecked it would make him feel. 

He never wanted it to stop. 

“Is this okay?” Cass asked hesitantly, slowing his movements even further. 

“Yeah, Cass. Keep going. You can keep…”

Cass shifted slightly, rolling his hips forward, and Dean lit up like a goddamn Christmas tree. 

“Ungh, fuck, yes, right there!” Dean cried out. 

Cass began to move faster, fucking Dean so that his cock kept brushing up against that spot inside him that made the angels sing—pun _definitely_ intended. Dean grasped at Cass’s shoulder with his left hand, nails biting into flesh as his back arched with the pleasure of it. 

“Fuck, Cass, you’re gonna make me come,” Dean gasped out, his cock leaking as he stroked himself, feeling his orgasm building. 

“Yes, Dean. Want to see you come.” Cass lay his hand over the handprint on Dean’s arm, squeezing, just as Dean’s fist twisted around the head of his cock. 

“Cass!” Dean cried, coming so hard his vision blacked out, as his cock pulsed and pulsed in his shaking hand. 

“Oh, God, Dean,” Cass groaned, thrusting erratically, and Dean looked up to see Cass’s face contorted in pleasure as he came. 

Cass’s hips juddered a few times before stilling, and Dean bit his lip, looking up at Cass with eyes that were hazy in the afterglow. Cass bent down to kiss Dean—soft, gentle kisses that were almost at odds with what they had just done. 

As Cass pulled out, as carefully as he could, Dean couldn’t hide his wince. He had always thought he was in pretty good shape, but he was pretty sure he’d just discovered muscles he never knew he had. His ass ached, he was covered in lube and come, and Cass…

Cass came back from flushing the condom, lying beside Dean and kissing him. 

“I should shower again,” Dean murmured, making absolutely no move to do so. 

“Okay,” Cass replied between kisses, also making no move to let him up. 

“I’m not sure I could walk right now, though,” Dean confessed with a laugh. 

Cass gave him a concerned look. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine, Cass,” Dean reassured him. “Better than fine. That was… It was amazing.”

Cass nodded, looking at Dean like he was the only person in the world. 

“Look, Cass, about what you said…”

Cass’s expression shuttered slightly. “I told you, Dean. I don’t expect you to say it back. And I don’t regret saying it.”

“Good, because…” Dean took a deep breath. _Don’t be a fucking coward_ , he told himself. “Because I feel the same way. About you.”

Cass blinked, as though he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “You… You do?”

“I love you.” Dean had never felt so raw, so naked. Cass had seen Dean out of his clothes, sure; but this was even more, as though Cass could see his _soul_. 

Cass looked at him for a long moment, then drew him into a deep kiss. “I love you,” he muttered against Dean’s lips. “I love you.”

“I can’t… I’m not gonna be able to say it often,” Dean warned him. “That’s not who I am.”

Cass gave him a small smile. “I know. But to know that you feel it…” He waved his hand, and Dean was clean again, then he pulled the comforter over them both. “Take a nap. Sam probably won’t be back for a while. I’m sure he’ll call you when he gets here.”

Dean nodded, rolling over and letting Cas’s spoon him, his arm over Dean’s chest. He took Cass’s hand, lacing their fingers together, as Cass pressed a kiss to his shoulder. 

“Sleep, Dean.”

Dean smiled to himself and let his mind drift off, safe in the arms of the man who loved him. 

The man he loved. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Omg thank you for sticking with this!!! 11 years in the making and I hope it was worth it. I loved writing it. I hope you enjoyed reading it too.


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